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DUKE  UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


The  Glenn  Negley  Collection 
of  Utopian  Literature 


THE  NATURAL  MAN. 


Freedom  is  this  to  me 
The  remedy. 


:\mmM^iAfffD 


burner  iTOTH 


Arranged  and  printed  for  the  pub- 
lisher, AT  Alwil  Shop,  Ridgewood, 
New  Jersey. 


Copyright,  1902,  by  J.  Wm.  Lloyd. 


u/  cy^  //^ 

ZfTSM 


The  friendly  and  flowing  savage,  who  is  he? 
Is  he  waiting  for  civilization,  or  is  he  past  it 
and  mastering  it? 

Whitman. 

*If  you  would  live  at  your  ease,'  savs  Democ- 
ritus,  'manage  but  a  few  things. '  *  *  *  For  the 
greater  part  of  what  we  say  and  do,  being  unnec- 
cessary,  if  this  were  but  once  retrenched  we 
should  have  both  more  leisure  &  less  disturbance. 

Marcus  Aurelius. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2010  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


http://www.archive.org/details/natvralmanromancOOIIoy 


//  is  not  meanty  O  Reader^  that  you 
should  live  life  as  this  man  lived  it,  but  only 
that  you  should  fearlessly  and  gladly  live 
your  own  life. 


CHAP  T  E  R      I 


T  was  June ;  hazy,  hot,  volup- 
tuous, with  just  a  hint  in  the 
clouds    piling    like  pillows  of 

_  down     behind     the     Western 

bourne    that    upon    them    Thunder    and 
Storm  were  sleeping. 

Just  here  the  trees  opened  a  little  on 
the  lower  side  of  the  terrace  and  she  could 
see  far  down  the  mountain  slope  and  off 
over  the  cities  and  fields  of  the  plain.  Lazy 
with  the  heat  her  horse  stopped;  or  per- 
haps horses  also  like  beautiful  views.  Be  it 
as  you  please,  here  they  paused  and  gazed 
downward.    Then  occurred  that  which  to 


lo  The     Natural     Man 

her  seemed  as  a  vision,  a  phantasy. 

There  was  a  clatter  of  hoofs  below, 
beating  the  still  air  vividly,  and  along  the 
open  space  of  red  road  down  there,  perhaps 
one  hundred  yards  away,  flew  a  naked 
horse,  that  is  saddleless,  bridleless,  and  on 
his  back  a  naked  man,  or  nearly  so,  waving 
a  green  branch.  Hardly  had  he  disappeared 
behind  the  thick  shade  of  overarching 
trees  before  she  doubted  her  eyes,  so  like 
a  relief  on  an  ancient  tomb  had  seemed  the 
muscular  figure  clinging  with  sinewy  legs 
to  the  glossy  steed,  vine-crowned  and 
branch-laden,  cumbered  with  no  garments. 

"There  are  no  demi-gods  in  these 
days,"  she  said. 

But  just  then  came  a  shrill  neigh  from 
the  right  hand  distance,  and  a  nickering 
whinney  from  the  left,  and  out  into  the 
open  on  the  same  track  came  a  young  colt. 


The     Natural     Man  ii 

all  legs,  tail,  &  outstretched  neck,  bolting 
with  all  the  wasteful  speed  of  his  youth 
after  his  retreating  dam. 

"  There  must  be  something  real  about 
it.  Jack,"  she  said,  stroking  the  mane  of 
her  steed,  who  was  much  interested,  ears 
a-prick,  "  One  may  imagine  Greek  heroes, 
but  horse-babies  are  too  ridiculous  to  be 
anything  but  facts." 

Jack  did  not  resent  this  insult  to  his 
race,  but  turning  one  eye  and  ear  back  at 
the  sound  of  her  voice  deliberately  took 
up  the  ascent  once  more. 

Many  women  would  have  feared,  and 
with  dread  visions  of  escaped  lunatics 
would  have  returned  home  headlong,  but 
this  young  woman,  haughty  and  reserved 
as  her  acquaintances  deemed  her,  was 
withal  dauntless  and  daring,  and  had  no 
tremors. 


la  The     Natural     Man 

But  perhaps  two  hours  later  she  decid- 
ed that  she  had  lost  her  way.  Not  that 
there  was  aught  alarming  in  that,  either,  for 
it  was  not  yet  noon  ^  she  had  only  to  take 
any  downward  track  to  get  to  the  low  land 
where  some  main  road  could  be  found. 
Accordingly  she  took  the  first  down  trail, 
a  mere  woodcutter's  track,  and  after  awhile 
came  to  a  better  road,  and  then  to  a  cross- 
ing. Here  Jack  shied,  and  she  started,  for 
there,  on  a  bank,  half  in  the  sun,  asleep, 
lay  her  demi-god  again.  He  was  not  nude 
completely,  for  close-fitting  breeches  of 
corduroy  reached  to  his  knees,  but  elsewise 
he  wore  nothing  but  a  wreath  of  wild  grape 
leaves  on  his  broad  brow,  plumed  with  one 
barred  owl-feather.  Brown  as  a  nut  with 
sun-tan,  his  carven  muscles  stood  out 
sculpturesquely  as  he  lay  on  his  back,  one 
knee  drawn  up,  one  hand  under  his  head. 


The     Natural     Man  13 

the  other  thrust  into  a  great  pouch  at  his 
girdle.  His  hair  was  heavy,  as  always  with 
those  who  eschew  hats,  and  a  little  curly, 
his  face  bearded,  strong  and  not  unhand- 
some, his  flesh  clean. 

Undoubtedly  he  was  crazy,  but  he  was 
picturesque,  and  she  was  an  artist  and  not 
afraid  ;  besides  he  was  not  mounted  now, 
and  Jack  was  fleet.  She  looked  ^  admired, 
and  even  penciled  a  little  sketch  on  her 
note  book.  But  before  more  than  the  face 
was  done  Jack  grew  suspicious,  snorted, 
and  stamped  on  the  stony  road-bed,  and 
the  demi-god  woke,  stared  at  her  in  a  little 
confusion,  reddened,  and  sat  up.  Perhaps 
even  a  Greek  would  have  blushed  to  awake 
in  a  wood  and  see  a  haughty  young  wom- 
an, elegantly  attired,  regarding  him  with 
just  a  trace  of  amusement  gleaming  under 
her  level  brows  and  slipping  away  a  note 


14  The     Natural     Man 

book  and  pencil. 

"  Excuse  me,  but  will  you  tell  me 
which  road  to  take  to  go  to  Rippleford?  " 

He  stood  up  with  a  light  bound,  and 
his  voice  was  gentle  and  refined. 

"  Certainly !  I  will  with  pleasure.  But 
neither  of  these.  You  must  go  with  me 
down  this  one  a  little  way,  and  then  I  will 
put  you  on  the  Rippleford  road." 

Putting  his  fingers  to  his  lips  he  blew 
a  piercing  whistle,  and  out  of  the  woods, 
from  somewhere,  came  cantering  the  black 
mare  she  had  seen  and  the  gawky  colt. 
Braided  into  the  mane  and  flowing  tail  of 
the  mother-horse  were  several  feathers, 
Indian-wise.  Trotting  by  her  side  with  one 
hand  on  her  mane  the  demi-god  leapt  on 
her  back,  and  guiding  her  by  a  motion  of 
his  hand,  rode  alongside  of  his  questioner. 

"Now  if  you  will  come  with  me,  please, 


The     Natural     Man  15 

I  will  show  you  the  road." 

"  Mercy  '*  thinks  this  daring  young 
woman,  "  I  am  in  his  power  now,  I  must 
humor  him,  anyway.  He  has  a  splendid 
torso,  too,  and  what  a  calf  and  instep.  I 
would  like  to  model  them." 

But  she  said  nothing,  and  the  silence 
was  a  little  constrained. 

He  rode  just  ahead,  &'  the  colt  ran  in 
front  and  teased  the  mare,  made  her  prance 
and  curvet,  but  the  little  thing  was  afraid 
of  Jack. 

After  going  a  little  way  they  came  in 
sight  of  a  small  valley  with  the  mountain 
very  steep  on  the  North- West,  a  beautiful 
park-like  vale  with  much  green  grass 
growing  in  fine  turf,  and  beautiful  clumps 
of  noble  trees,  a  brook  in  the  centre,  and 
cows  and  goats  grazing.  And  on  the  side 
near  her  was  a  stout  fence  made  of  stumps 


i6  The     Natural     Man 

and  pleached  trees. 

"  What  a  lovely  place,"  she  said,  ''who 
owns  it?" 

"  I  do." 

"  Poor,  naked  man,  he  is  very  crazy," 
she  thought. 

"Indeed!  you  are  very  fortunate." 

He  gave  her  a  smile,  a  quick  gleam  of 
white  teeth  under  a  long  mustache. 

"  Yes,  I  am  the  happiest  of  men." 

A  pleasant  form  for  insanity  to  take,  if 
one  must  have  it.  She  must  humor  it. 

"And  these  cattle,  they  are  yours?" 

"All  mine." 

A  little  more  silence,  ^  then  they  came 
to  where  a  road  seemied  to  come  out  of 
this  vale  and  off  to  the  eastward. 

"This  is  the  road  to  Rippleford." 

"  Oh  thank  you!  I  am  greatly  obliged." 

"No,    on    the    contrary    I    owe    you 


The     Natural     Man  17 

thanks  for  the  pleasure  you  have  given 
me. 

He  looked  very  sane,  with  a  pleasant, 
clear  light  in  his  eyes,  and  she  smiled  a 
little. 

"Then  even  the  happiest  of  men  can 
recieve  an  additional  pleasure  ? " 

"  Why,  certainly,  who  more  so!  —  to 
him  that  hath  shall  be  given!" 

"  But  I  spoiled  your  nap." 

He  reddened  again  and  murmured  like 
a  shy  schoolboy,  apologetically: 

"It  was  so  beautiful  there,  and  so  de- 
lightful to  lie  on  one's  back  and  look  up 
into  the  sky,  and  hear  the  bees  murmur 
in  the  tree  tops." 

"  It  was  indeed,  I  quite  envied  you, 
for  I  used  to  do  just  that  when  a  child." 

Instantly  his  shyness  vanished  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  one  who  utters  a  favorite 


i8  The     Natural     Man 

thought. 

"  And  why  do  you  not  do  it  now?  You 
would  enjoy  it  just  as  much  now  as  you 
did  then.  Nay  more,  for  the  adult  mind 
can  interweave  more  charms,  can  be  more 
consciously  happy,  can  receive  more  wide 
delights  than  the  child  mind.  Why  do  you, 
why  does  every  one,  pine  for  the  joys  of 
childhood  and  yet  refuse  the  means  that 
childhood  instinctively  takes  to  attain  its 
pleasures  ? " 

He  was  warm  with  enthusiasm,  his 
eyes  flashing,  his  sensitive  features  glow- 
ingly expressive,  but  he  did  not  look  in 
the  least  maniacal,  ^  his  voice  was  gentle 
almost  to  music,  and  yet  low  as  if  used 
mainly  in  the  utterance  of  murmured  soli- 
loquies. 

But  she  thought  of  herself,  the  flattered 
and  stately  Miss  Earle,  asleep  on  her  back 


The     Natural     Man  19 

in  the  sun,  gazed  at  possibly  by  a  naked 
demi-god  on  a  black  mare,  and  she  replied 
very  coldly. 

"  No,  I  thank  you.  I  do  not  think  the 
attitude  would  become  me." 

A  smile  came  into  his  eyes,  twitched 
the  corners  of  his  mustache  ^  ran  all  over 
his  face.  He  was  actually  laughing  at  her. 

She  opened  her  eyes  a  little  with  a 
haughty  flash  of  indignation. 

"  Good  morning,  sir,  I  must  be  going 
now! 

He  leapt  from  his  horse,  and  running 
to  the  roadside  plucked  from  the  grass  a 
bunch  of  wild  strawberries  and,  running 
beside  her  horse  as  she  moved  off,  held 
them  up. 

"  I  was  rude,"  he  said,  "  please  forgive 
me  and  take  these." 

His  face  was  so  contrite,  ^  his  action 


10  The     Natural     Man 

so  spontaneous  (besides,  she  remembered 
that  she  must  humor  him)  that  she  said, 

"  Oh,  it  is  of  no  consequence.  Thank 
you,  these  are  dehcious." 

"You  are  very  generous,"  he  murmur- 
ed, "good  morning.  This  road  will  take 
you  direct  to  Rippleford.  If  ever  you  come 
this  way  again,  come  and  see  my  home." 

And  leaping  on  his  mare,  who  had 
trotted  behind  him  Hke  a  dog,  he  turned, 
and  galloped  toward  his  valley.  In  spite  of 
herself  she  could  not  help  turning  Jack 
and  looking  after  him.  The  black  mare 
flew  toward  the  fence  and  cleared  it  like  a 
bird,  while  after  came  the  nickering  colt. 
He  could  not  jump  the  fence,  too,  but  as 
the  outside  was  less  steep  than  the  inside, 
he  found  a  place  where  he  could  clamber 
up  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  and  from  here, 
leaping  down,  he  was  soon  tearing  after  his 


The     Natural     Man 


21 


dam.  And  the  last  that  Theodora  Earle 
saw  of  them,  all  three  rode  with  a  splash 
into  the  brook,  where  the  mare  commenced 
to  drink,  and  the  man,  the  owlplume  nod- 
ding on  his  head,  sat  on  her  side,  plashing 
his  bare  feet  in  the  cool  stream. 


CHAPTER     II 


T  was  the  office  of  the  Ripple- 
ford  Record. 

Such  places  are  all  unbeau- 
tlful  and  they  are  all  alike. 
But  the  editor  washed  his  inky  fingers 
and  set  out  his  two  chairs,  for  he  had  lady 
visitors-  his  cousin  Edith,  with  the  flaxen 
hair,  and  her  dark  friend,  Theodora  Earle. 
"Oh,  indeed.  Cousin  Sax  is  very  am- 
bitious," Edith  was  saying,  "  he  aspires  to 
have  the  best  country  paper  in  the  State. 
Paid  contributors,  you  know,  ^  that  sort 
of  thing  " 

Saxon  Ward  laughed.    "Yes,  Cousin 


24  The     Natural     Man 

Edith  writes  me  stories  sometimes." 

"  O  my  stories  are  nothing.  But  you 
really  have  one  great  contributor." 

"  Forrest  Westwood,  you  mean.  Yes, 
he  is  a  genius  in  his  way.  I  must  show  you 
the  little  poem  he  brought  me  in  yesterday. 
Said  he  had  just  composed  it.  Came  tear- 
ing up  here  on  a  gallop,  as  usual,  i^  away 
again  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  What  a  happy, 
healthy  vision  he  is,  a  living  pi6lure.  And 
Blackbird  looks  just  as  happy,  as  she  car- 
ries him,  and  almost  as  intelligent." 

"  Oh  Cousin  Sax,  let  me  see  the  poem, 
please,  right  away! " 

"  Well,  its  right  there  in  the  desk,  on 
top,  under  the  paper  weight.  You  must 
see  this  man  before  you  leave.  Miss  Earle. 
As  an  artist,  you  would  appreciate  him.  I 
would  wager  considerable  that  he  is  the 
most  picturesque  man  in  America.  Thoreau 


The     Natural     Man 


^5 


was  nothing  beside  him." 

"Indeed!  tell  me  about  him." 
"  Well,  he  was  born  not  far  from  here, 
on  a  common  country  farm.  Nothing  re- 
markable about  the  Westwoods,  generally. 
Just  farmers,  but  perhaps  a  little  more 
given  to  wood  craft  than  most  of  their  sort. 
His  father  died  from  a  carriage  accident 
[which  also  injured  his  mother]  when  he 
was  a  mere  boy.  He  grew  up  after  his  own 
devices,  and  was  always  peculiar.  Always 
wandering  in  the  woods,  or  reading,  or 
saying  strange,  startling,  beautiful  things. 
He  took  a  long  trip  when  a  lad,  with  an 
uncle,  up  in  the  Adirondacks  and  Canada, 
and  again  out  West.  Another  time  he  went 
off  and  spent  a  year  among  the  Indians. 
But  his  mother  became  an  invalid,  as  a 
result  of  her  injury,  &  he  came  back  and 
stayed  with  her  till  she  died.  She  idolized 


26  The     Natural     Man 

him,  and  gave  him  his  way  in  everything, 
and  as  a  boy  he  laid  his  plans  to  be  what 
he  is  now.  He  obtained  the  gift  from  her 
of  a  tradl  of  wild  forest  land  on  the  moun- 
tains, &'  made  a  bargain  with  a  wood-cutter 
by  which  the  majority  of  the  trees  were  to 
be  cleaned  away,  stumps  and  all,  the 
stumps  to  be  piled  on  the  borders  as  a 
fence,  in  return  for  the  valuable  timber  cut 
down.  The  wood-cutter  had  the  best  of  it, 
financially,  but  Westwood  was  level-head- 
ed, too,  in  his  way.  He  had  gone  over  the 
ground  &'  marked  all  the  trees  he  wanted 
saved,  and  a  landscape  gardener  could  not 
have  done  it  with  more  judgment.  He 
sowed  all  the  clear  ground  between  the 
clumps  of  trees  with  grass,  and  from  time 
to  time  set  out  fruit  ^  nut  trees  and  grape 
vines  and  flowering  shrubs;  and  by  the 
time  he  became  a  man  and  was  ready  to 


The     Natural     Man  ay 

occupy  it  he  had  a  perfect  American  Eden 
there,  a  lovely  park,  which  was  part  mea- 
dow, part  pasture  and  part  orchard.  After 
his  mother  died  he  sold  the  home  farm, 
moved  to  this  park  in  the  forest,  and  gave 
himself  up  entirely  to  the  realization  of 
his  eccentric  fancies.  His  pet  doctrine  is 
that  in  becoming  civilized  human  beings 
have  forgotten  the  art  of  happiness,  which, 
he  maintains,  can  only  be  found  in  living 
like  a  child  and  close  to  nature.  To  be  a 
sort  of  gentle  savage,  or  refined  barbarian, 
or,  as  he  would  call  it,  "a  natural  man,"  is 
his  ideal.  He  rather  despises  property,  ^ 
gave  away  most  of  his  to  a  widowed  aunt 
who  was  left  poor  with  a  very  large  family. 
He  lives  mainly  on  his  own  game,  milk, 
eggs,  fruits  and  honey,  and  by  selling  his 
surplus  of  these,  carving  nick-nacks  to  sell 
to  summer  visitors,  ^  writing  for  my  paper 


28  The     Natural     Man 

he  has  a  small  income.  But  his  habits  are 
so  simple  he  has  more  than  he  wants,  and 
considers  himself  rather  a  rich  man.  His 
one  dissipation  is  the  purchase  of  books/' 

"All  this  is  very  interesting,  but  does 
not  prove  him  so  very  unique." 

"  No,  but  he  is  unique,  nevertheless. 
Imagine  a  man,  in  conversation  naive  as  a 
child,  sometimes  shy  and  sensitive,  some- 
times bold,  eloquent  and  enthusiastic,  but 
always  saying  the  most  startling  things  in 
the  most  sincere  and  persuasive  way ;  a 
poet;  a  sculptor,  or  at  least  a  carver;  a 
musician  who  wanders  thro'  the  deep 
woods  at  midnight  and  flutes  divinely  to 
the  moon ;  who  reads  Greek  and  Latin ; 
who  wears  no  more  clothing  than  the 
weather,  and  Society's  prejudices  force  him 
to;  who  sleeps  out  doors  in  summer  and 
often  in  winter;  who  hunts  with  the  bow 


The     Natural     Man  29 

and  arrow;  who  rides  bareback;  carries 
great  weights  on  his  head ;  lives  in  a  half- 
cave  and  in  the  midst  of  a  happy  family  of 
dogs,  goats,  cows,  horses,  squirrels,  snakes, 
birds  and  bees;  is  as  frankly  pagan  as  a 
Greek,  and  a  gentle  contemnor  of  all  con- 
ventionalities and  sacred  institutions/' 
"  Now,  Theodora,  listen  to  this!  " 

TRIO  LET, 

To  lie  on  one  s  back  and  look  at  the  sky 
Up  thro'  the  branches  ^  leaves  of  geeen! 

Why^  I  used  to  do  that  when  only  so  high  — 
Lie  on  my  back  and  look  up  at  the  sky. 
At  the  white  and  the  blue,  and  wish  I 
could  fly: 

It  gives  one  a  feeling  so  great  and  serene 
'To  lie  on  one's  back  and  gaze  at  the  sky, 
Up  thro'  the  branches  ^  leaves  of  green. 


JO  The     Natural     Man 

"There,  isn*t  that  just  lovely!" 

"It  is  quite  pretty." 

"  Quite  pretty!  I  say  it  is  perfectly 
beautiful !  " 

"You  must  praise  generously,  Miss 
Earle,  for  Cousin  Edith  has  quite  lost  her 
romantic  heart  to  my  picturesque  friend." 

"Did  you  say  he  composed  that  yes- 
terday? " 

"  So  he  said.  But  what  makes  you  look 
so  peculiarly?" 

"  Oh,  nothing,  only  I  feel  that  I  could, 
you  have  told  me  so  much,  you  know, 
sketch  your  hero,  lying  on  his  back  on  the 
bracken.  Let  me  try." 

(Pulls  out  her  note  book  and  begins  to 
make  marks  rapidly,  concealing  the  page 
from  the  others.) 

"  There,  isn't  that  like  him?  Am  I  not 
a  seer? " 


The     Natural     Man  31 

"Splendid!  Miss  Earle,  why,  it  is  a 
portrait!  " 

"  Why,  Theodora!  how  could  you  do 
it!" 

Just  then  came  the  clatter  of  hoofs 
without,  an  anxious  neigh,  and  a  nickering 
whinney. 

"Speak  of  the  devil" —  said  Saxon 
Ward,  "come  here,  girls!" 

Adown  the  village  street  toward  them, 
reeling  rhythmically  in  an  ambling  pace, 
came  Blackbird,  with  Westwood  on  her 
back,  and  the  ubiquitous,  leggy  colt.  Evi- 
dently both  mare  and  master  had  on  their 
society  attire,  for  she  had  a  panther  skin 
surcingled  on  with  a  broad  horsehair  cinch, 
in  lieu  of  saddle;  and  he  wore  Indian  leg- 
gins  and  moccasins,  and  a  sort  of  vest,  or 
rather  shirt,  sleeveless,  with  large  armholes 
and  cut  low  ^  square  in  the  neck,  made  from 


32  The     Natural     Man 

numberless  mole  skins,  so  neatly  sewn  to- 
gether that  the  outside  was  as  unbroken  as 
velvet  ^  softer  than  any  woven  nap  could 
have  been.  On  his  head  were  now  no  vine- 
leaves,  but  the  owlplume  twirled  in  the 
braided  lock,  and  on  his  back  hung  a  bow 
and  quiver  of  arrows.  Behind  the  proces- 
sion, at  an  easy  jog-trot,  side  by  side  like 
a  well-matched  team,  lolling  red  tongues 
and  hanging  long  velvety  ears,  came  two 
little  beagle  hounds. 

It  was  a  pretty  pageant,  seen  in  the 
long  rays  of  the  declining  sun. 

In  his  right  hand  Westwood  carried 
something.  Seeing  the  heads  of  Ward  and 
Edith  out  of  the  window  he  sprang  up, 
standing,  on  the  back  of  Blackbird,  start- 
ing her  into  a  canter,  ^  came  up  swinging 
a  great  hawk,  transfixed  with  an  arrow, 
around    his  head  with  a  very  boyish  air 


The     Natural     Man 


33 


and  shout  of  triumph.  But  catching  sight 
of  Miss  Earle's  face  beyond  he  dropped 
back  to  a  sitting  posture  in  some  confusion, 
and  with  such  precipitation  that  he  nearly 
lost  his  seat  altogether. 

"There,  Theo,"  scolded  Edith,  "I 
wanted  him  to  show  off,  &'  he  commenced 
beautifully,  and  you  frightened  him  so  that 
he  nearly  tumbled  down." 

"Well,  that  would  have  been  showing 
^wouldn^t  itP " 

"  Be  still !  you  always  were  a  fright 
anyway.  Mr.  Westwood  I  want  to  make 
you  acquainted  with  my  very  dear  friend, 
Miss  Theodora  Earle  of  Boston.'' 

Westwood  bowed  to  this  head-long 
introduction,  and  then,  leaping  off  Black- 
bird, came  striding  in  with  the  two  little 
hounds  at  his  heel. 

"  I  think  Miss  Earle  and  I  have  met 


34  The     Natural     Man 

before." 

"Oh  the  horrid,  deceitful  thing!  — 
Why  Mr.  Westwood,  here  she  has  been 
letting  Cousin  Sax  and  me  tell  her  all 
about  you  for  the  last  hour,  as  if  she  had 
never  heard  of  you,  and  now  it  appears  you 
were  acquainted." 

"Talking  about  me!"  —  began  West- 
wood,  embarrassed  again. 

But  Miss  Earle  came  to  his  assistance. 

"Indeed  I  never  heard  of  this  gentle- 
man before.  But  I  met  him  day  before 
yesterday,  while  riding  on  the  mountain, 
and  he  directed  me  to  Rippleford.  He  was 
very  kind.  So  you  see  there  was  no  decep- 
tion, except  a  little  bit  of  mystification 
about  the  picture  which  I  would  have 
cleared  up  before  long.  You  see  I  first  saw 
Mr.  Westwood  — " 

"Asleep  in  the  sun,  Til  wager!  That*s 


The     Natural     Man  35 

how  you  got  his  picture !  Forrest,  that's  a 
good  one  on  you!  Fairly  caught  that  time." 

"Yes,  he  was  asleep,  and  I  had  just 
time  to  sketch  his  face  when  he  woke.  It 
was  very  rude,  Mr.  Westwood,  forgive 
me. 

"  I  will  forgive  you,  if  you  will  accept 
my  invitation  and  come  to  Vale  Sunrise 
and  see  my  home." 

"  'Vale  Sunrise,'  a  pretty  name!  —  is 
that  the  name  of  your  home? 

"No,  Vale  Sunrise  is  the  name  of  my 
farm.  Cave-Gables  is  the  name  of  my 
home." 

"The  names  are  a  temptation  in  them- 
selves. I  will  surely  come,  some  day,  if 
Mr.  Ward  or  Edith  will  go  with  me." 

"  It  is  a  great  honor.  Miss  Earle," 
said  Saxon  Ward,  "invitations  to  visit 
Cave  Gables  are  not  common,  I    assure 


^6  The     Natural     Man 

you."T|"  I  believe  that,  ^  I  am  very  grate- 
ful, Mr.  Westwood." 

"  But  see  here,  Theo,  I  have  a  crow 
to  pick  with  you.  To  think  of  your  having 
those  adventures  with  Mr.  Westwood  on 
the  mountain,  two  days  ago,  and  not  a 
word  to  me —  two  days !  just  think  of  it. 
Ah,  you  are  a  faithless  friend." 

"  Miss  Earle  is  not  such  a  chatter  box 
as  you.  Cousin  Edith." 

"  Oh  Cousin  Sax!  —  how  mean  of  you. 
Tm  not  a  chatter  box,  am  I,  Mr.  West- 
wood?" 

"No  indeed.  Miss  Lyle.  It  is  certainly 
not  boxed'^ 

"  Mr.  Westwood  !  —  and  I  appealed 
to  you !  Very  well,  I  will  punish  you  sir, 
and  vindicate  myself,  by  not  speaking  to 
you  for  a  whole  week  —  sometime." 

"  What  beautiful  dogs  you  have,  Mr. 


The     Natural     Man  37 

Westwood.  I  am  very  fond  of  dogs.  Come 
here  doggies,  I  want  to  pat  you!" 

The  little  beagles,  lying  side  by  side 
between  Westwood's  feet,  picked  up  their 
ears  at  this,  and  wagged  their  tails  a  bit  by 
way  of  canine  courtesy,  but  did  not  other- 
wise move,  except  to  look  from  Miss  Earle 
to  their  master. 

"  It's  all  right,  babies,  she  is  a  friend. 
Go  to  her." 

Then  up  got  the  little  houndkins  and  side 
by  side,  as  usual,  went  to  Miss  Earle,  and 
received  the  caresses  of  the  two  young 
ladies  with  evident  delight.  But  at  a 
"Hist !  "  and  beckoned  finger  from  their 
master,  they  instantly  returned,  and  laid 
down  by  his  side  as  before. 

"  They  would  take  a  prize  at  any  show, 
Mr.  Westwood." 

"  Yes,  the  rearing  and  training  of  bea- 


38  The     Natural     Man 

gles  has  been  a  passion  in  my  family  for 
at  least  a  century,  and  we  have  a  strain  of 
our  own.  The  Westwood  beagles  are  well 
known;  for  beauty,  intelligence,  docility 
and  tenacity  of  scent  there  are  none  better, 
and  I  can  sell  my  pups  for  a  fancy  price. 
I  have  two  puppies  now  at  home,  unsold. 
Bell,  here,  is  the  mother,  and  the  father  a 
pedigreed  prize  winner." 

"  Indeed,  then  please  consider  them 
sold  to  me  ^  train  them  for  me  as  you  see 
fit.  I  want  them  for  my  little  brother  in 
Boston.  What  are  these  dogs  named?" 
"Bayer  and  Bellt.  Bay  ^  Bell  for  short." 
"  Mr.  Westwood  is  a  sort  of  a  baron, 
Theo,  and  his  dogs  are  his  henchmen  and 
retainers.  He  has  two  to  guard  his  castle, 
two  to  herd  his  flocks  and  two  to  hunt 
with  —  and  usually  some  puppies  for 
squires." 


The     Natural     Man 


39 


"  Where  did  you  get  the  hawk,  For- 
rest, and  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
him!" 

"  Yesterday  he  killed  a  hen  of  mine. 
And  the  day  before  one.  And  I  swore 
vengeance  ^  lay  in  wait  for  him.  But  his 
eyes  were  anointed  with  the  oil  of  prudence 
and  he  saw  me.  And  today  I  took  The- 
ocritus and  went  up  to  the  Swallow's  Nest 
to  comfort  my  soul  with  bucolic  poetry. 
There  hiding,  my  enemy  unsuspe(^tingly 
came,  and  wheeled  in  slow  rings  just  below 
me,  always  looking  down  at  the  hens;  and 
when  the  moment  came  I  rained  one  of 
my  gentle  shafts  upon  him  so  that  he  fell, 
spirally  down-whirling,  into  the  very 
midst  of  those  he  would  have  slain,  and  - 
I  just  picked  him  up  ^  brought  him  here. 
I  didn't  know  then  what  it  was  for,  but  I 
know  now  that  the  gods  made  me  carry  it 


40  The     Natural     Man 

so  as  to  have  something  wherewith  to  ap- 
pease the  just  wrath  of  Miss  Lyle  and 
persuade  her  to  speak  to  me  as  of  yore, 
without  the  direful  silence  of  one  whole 
week  spoken  of  by  Edith  the  prophet." 

"O  thank  you,  Mr.  Westwood,  how 
good  you  are!  I  will  have  it  stuffed  and 
mounted.  But  you  know  I  could  never 
have  kept  that  threat,  for  I  am  3.  chatter 
box,  and  that's  the  truth." 

"Well,  I  must  go  now.  My  kine  Vith 
trailing  feet  &*  shambling  gait'  will  be  com- 
ing in  ^  lowing  to  be  milked.  Goodnight, 
Miss  Earle.  And  you,  my  good  friends, 
come  with  her,  as  soon  as  you  can,  and 
spend  the  day  with  me.  Good  night  all. 
Here  babies, —  heel !  —  march!  " 

And  in  another  moment  Blackbird  was 
skimming  toward  the  setting  sun,  bearing 
on  her  back  this  strange  man,  along  the 


The     Natural     Man 


41 


dusty  village  street,  the  owl-plume  flutter- 
ing above,  and  the  little  hounds,  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  running  hard  behind. 

"  He  has  to  dress  more  when  he  comes 
to  the  village,"  Saxon  said,  "for  the  village 
fathers  were  moved  to  righteous  indigna- 
tion, once,  and  arrested  him  for  indecent 
nakedness." 

"What  do  you  think  of  him,  Theo?" 

"His  strangeness  is  all  that  you  des- 
cribed it,  certainly.  But  I  don't  know 
whether  I  like  him  or  not,  yet.  When  I 
first  saw  him  I  thought  he  was  crazy. 

"  Everybody  does,  I  guess." 


CHAPTER      III 


UST  as  Vale  Sunrise  became 
aware  of  its  name  that  sum- 
mer morning,  came  into  it 
from  the  eastward  three  riders, 
long  shadows  going  far  before,  their  horses 
hoofs  brushing  dew  from  the  herbage. 

They  were  on  the  trail  leading  from 
the  gate  to  Cave  Gables. 

"Ah,  there  it  is!"  said  Saxon  Ward, 
as  a  turn  in  the  trail  revealed  a  tall  Gothic 
gable  on  a  terrace  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain. Between  where  they  stood  and  the 
terrace  was  an  intervale^  as  the  pleasant 
old  word  is,  of  alluvial  land  and  in  this  a 


44  The     Natural     Man 

narrow  winding  lake,  made,  evidently,  by 
damming  the  brook  which  flowed  from  the 
terrace,  and  a  little  unfenced  garden  about 
which  patroled  two  black  and  white  collies 
evidently  to  keep  off  the  cows,  goats  and 
other  creatures  which  might  destroy  its 
succulent  products. 

"  How  like  Arcadia!  "  said  Miss  Earle, 
as  she  dwelt  on  the  beauties  of  the  scene  — 
the  sparkling  dew,  the  long,  cool  shadows, 
the  morning  light  on  the  dimpling  lake,  the 
browsing  goats  and  kine. 

"  It  is  Arcadia,"  said  Edith,  ardently. 
"  See,  there  goes  Forrest  now!  " 

Up  the  path  on  the  terrace  they  saw 
him  mounting,  balancing  a  vessel  of  milk 
on  his  head,  his  two  little  hounds  behind. 
Just  then  the  collies  gave  warning,  a  thun- 
derous reply  came  from  mightier  canine 
throats  at  the  dwelling,  ^  the  beagles  and 


The     Natural     Man 


45 


puppies  added  their  shriller  notes  to  the 
din.  Forrest  set  down  his  milk,  said  some- 
thing to  the  dogs,  and  then,  with  a  whoop, 
came  bounding  down  the  terrace  (sf  along 
the  trail  toward  them  with  great  leaps  like 
a  boy.  It  was  noticeable,  the  discipline  of 
his  dogs.  The  collies  barked  but  did  not 
leave  their  charge,  the  beagles  barked  but 
did  not  offer  to  quit  the  milk  they  had 
been  told  to  guard.  The  guardian  mastiffs 
did  not  appear  in  sight. 

In  a  moment  Forrest,  flushed,  laugh- 
ing, the  morning  light  shining  on  his  bare, 
brown  sides,  was  with  them,  holding  out 
the  hand  of  welcome. 

"So  good  of  you  to  come,  and  at  this 
time.  The  morning  hours  are  so  beautiful. 
They  are  my  hours.  I  am  "at  home,"  as 
the  fashionable  people  say,  at  sunrise." 

"I  knew  that,"  said  Edith,  "and  so 


4-6  The     Natural     Man 

these  lazy  folk  were  routed  up  unmercifully 
this  morning,^  forced  to  come,willy-nilly." 

As  they  rode  on,  he  trotted  by  their 
side  with  bare  feet  in  the  dew.  He  had 
not  even  a  chaplet  or  an  owl-plume  on  this 
time,  nothing  but  the  corduroy  trunk  and 
pouch,  but  the  lithe  muscles  worked  beau- 
tifully. As  he  ran  he  plucked  flowers  and 
handed  them  up  to  the  ladies. 

"  I  have  just  finished  milking"  he  said, 
as  they  crossed  a  little  rustic  bridge  at  the 
head  of  the  pond.  "  The  cattle  come  up 
here  in  the  morning  about  the  water  and 
then  I  milk  what  I  wish.  Some  one  or 
other  comes  from  the  Red  Farm  ^  milks 
the  rest.  They  are  gone  now,  for  I  stopped 
after  milking  to  catch  a  couple  of  fish." 

"The  Red  Farm  is  half  a  mile  away," 
explained  Saxon,  "and  the  people,  there, 
buy  Forrest^s  milk,  and  bring  him  butter, 


The     Natural     Man  47 

bread  and  whatever  of  that  sort  he  needs." 

"Commerce  even  in  Vale  Sunrise,'* 
laughed  Forrest,  as  he  picked  up  his  milk 
pail  ^  balanced  it  on  his  head  with  Hin- 
doo dexterity,  while  the  little  dogs  wagged 
tails  of  welcome  to  the  visitors.  "You  see 
I  need  quite  a  good  deal  of  milk,  myself, 
and  my  dogs  and  chickens  take  more." 

"  And  do  you  do  all  this  work  before 
breakfast?  " 

"  Not  exactly.  I  get  a  pint  of  warm 
goat's  milk  from  the  first  udder  I  come  to 
in  the  morning,  and  after  that  breakfast  is 
a  leisurely  matter,  perhaps,  in  the  fruit 
season,  plucked  from  the  vines  1^  bushes." 

They  were  now  on  the  terrace,  and  the 
place,  to  Miss  Earle  at  least,  was  full  of 
interest.  Cave  Gables  seemed  rightly 
named,  for  three  gables,  one  east,  one  west, 
one  south,  lifted  above    three    cave    like 


48  The     Natural     Man 

openings  in  a  pile  of  rocks  over  which 
vines  and  bushes  grew  in  wild  confusion. 
In  front  a  grove  of  stately  tall  trees  on  the 
level  terrace,  between  the  trunks  of  which 
the  entire  Vale  could  be  seen  in  all  its  park- 
like loveHness,  the  brook  as  a  silver  thread, 
the  lake  flashing  in  the  sun,  the  forest- 
covered  hills  surrounding.  East  of  the 
dwelling  the  brook  came  roaring  down  the 
steep,  across  the  terrace,  and  again  in  a 
series  of  cataract  leaps  down  the  terrace  to 
the  intervale.  On  the  further  side  they  saw 
poultry  under  the  trees,  evidently  dwelling 
in  other  caverns  there,  and  stands  of  bees, 
in  primitive  "gums,"  under  a  projecting 
ledge  of  rock.  On  the  hither  side,  near  the 
eastern  gable,  the  waters  of  the  brook  were 
joined  by  those  of  a  spring  coming  out  of 
the  mountain.  On  each  side  of  the  open 
south  door  of  Cave  Gables  lay  two  im- 


The     Natural     Man  49 

mense  mastiffs,  tawny  as  lionesses,  thun- 
dering mightily  at  them  till  their  master 
spoke,  then  coming  civilly  enough,  but 
with  dignity,  to  welcome  and  be  petted. 

He  turned  their  horses  loose  to  roam 
at  will,  and  then  led  them  west,  a  rod  or 
two,  close  to  the  mountain  steep,  where 
the  view  was  specially  fine  and  a  large  flat 
rock  lay  level  on  four  others  under  a 
mighty  shagbark. 

"  This  is  my  summer  table,  for  perhaps 
you  know  that  in  the  season  of  the  sun  I 
live  without  doors/* 

He  ran  and  brought  a  bundle  of  furs 
to  make  them  seats,  and  then,  excusing 
himself,  went  off  with  his  milk.  They  saw 
him  pour  some  of  it  into  a  carven  trough, 
whereat  all  the  dogs  and  a  huge  black  cat 
came  and  drank  their  fill,  ^  then  wade  the 
brook  and  give  to  the  hens,  and  place  the 


50  The     Natural     Man 

remainder  in  a  cool  crock  in  the  spring. 
Always,  they  noticed,  he  waded  the  brook 
instead  of  using  the  stepping  stones  or 
leaping  across.  While  he  was  gone  they 
discovered  his  summer  bedroom  —  a  bed 
of  warm  dry  sand  close  under  the  moun- 
tain side;  a  projecting  rock,  high,  over- 
fringed  with  vines,  keeping  off  the  rain.  A 
pillow  of  balsam  fir,  a  red  blanket,  a  bow 
and  quiver  —  that  was  the  furniture. 

Carved  on  the  soft  sandstone  was  this 
poem  — 

SULTRT  SUN  RISING. 

Praise  me  the  summer  mornings^  beautifuly 
Sultry,  and  fullest  of  passionate  life: 
The  hot  sun,  like  a  young  lover,  waking. 
Leaping  down  on  the  fair  earth,  amorous; 
'The  dew  on  the  grass  bright  like  a  bride's  eyes; 
The  flies  buzzing  dreamily,  dreamily. 


The     Natural     Man  51 

A  cool  deliciousness  tinct  with  fire; 
Pricked  by  desire  an  indolent  softness; 
Bliss  of  the  naked  flesh;  kisses  that  sting 
Of  sun  and  air  on  the  skin. 

O  praise  me 
The  summer  mornings,  sultry  and  beautiful. 
Great  with  Greek  spirit,  animal,  innocent. 

He  came  up,  now,  and  began  to  make 
a  fire  in  a  fire  place  of  stones,  semi-circular, 
opposite  this  "bed-room." 

"We  found  your  nest  while  you  were 
gone, "  Edith  called,  gayly. 

"Yes?  But  did  you  notice  that  there 
were  other  nests,  above  mine,  along  the 
under  edge  of  the  rockP" 

They  had  not  noticed  that. 

"They  are  friends  of  mine,  those  eave- 
swallows,  ^  we  do  not  disturb  each  other. 


52  The     Natural     Man 

They  make  pleasant  little  noises  in  the 
evenings,  while  I  lie  there  and  look  out  at 
the  stars,  or  when  I  get  up  to  replenish 
the  fire  on  cool  nights.'* 

"  Do  the  collies  guard  your  garden  day 
and  night?" 

"No,  at  night  the  beagles  take  their 
place,  and  then  the  collies  come  and  sleep 
with  me  or  by  the  fire/' 

"  Do  you  always  sleep  here  ? " 

"  O  no.  If  the  whim  seizes  me  I  take 
my  blanket  ^  wander  where  I  will,  sleep- 
ing wherever  I  stop.  On  moonlight  nights 
I  wander  till  morning,  sometimes,  &  sleep 
in  the  daytime  to  make  up." 

While  talking  he  drew  from  his  pouch 
a  bundle  of  damp  moss  and  opening  this 
they  saw  two  fine  black  bass,  still  breath- 
ing. He  went  to  the  brook,  killed  and 
cleaned  them,  and  then  spitted  them  on 


The     Natural     Man  53 

sharp  white  sticks  inclined  to  the  fire,  turn- 
ing them  at  intervals. 

Now  he  set  the  table.  He  spread  a 
"  table  cloth"  over  the  rock  and  it  was  a 
wonder  to  them.  Made  of  white,  soft  buck- 
skin, fringed  with  knife  cuts,  and  decorated 
Indian-wise,  with  pictures  of  fruit,  game, 
campfires  and  sylvan  feasts. 

They  were  interested  &'  amused  to  see 
him  fish  his  table  utensils  out  of  the  waters 
of  the  brook,  and  at  their  nature  too.  All 
were  home-made,  except  the  knives.  Forks 
of  hand  carved  bone  and  horn.  Bowls  and 
trenchers  and  spoons  of  bass-wood,  beech- 
wood,  tulipwood  and  maple;  carved,  all  of 
them,  in  dainty  and  artistic  fashion.  Cups 
of  horn,  gourd,  ^  cocoa-shell,  carved  also; 
the  gourds  having  evidently  been  cut 
while  growing  so  that  the  marks  and  pat- 
tern grew  into  them.  And  there  were  even 


54  The     Natural     Man 

individual  butter  dishes,  made  from  mus- 
sel-shells not  carved,  but  highly  polished, 
displaying  the  nacre.  The  two  that  he  set 
before  the  ladies  had  real  pearls  attached, 
encrusted  in  their  mother.  Not  a  single 
thing  of  glass,  or  china,  or  crockery  of  any 
sort. 

"  Is  the  brook  your  pantry? " 

"It  is  at  least  my  cupboard.  You  see 
I  do  not  like  to  wash  dishes,  so  after  every 
meal  I  put  all  into  the  brook,  there  to 
wash  till  called  for,  and  I  have  plenty  so 
any  refractory  dish  may  have  enough.  And 
the  little  minnows  and  craw-fishes  and 
cutting  sands  and  whipping  waters  make 
all  clean  for  me,  at  last." 

It  was  so  droll  that  they  all  laughed 
merrily,  and  fell  to  admiring  the  dishes. 

Everything  was  in  harmony.  There 
were  fresh  butter  from  the  Red  Farm  on 


The     Natural     Man  ^^ 

great  cool  cabbage  leaves,  strawberries  on 
vine  leaves,  bread  on  a  tray  of  birch  bark, 
cream  in  a  calabash,  honey-comb  in  a  hol- 
low stone,  a  bouquet  of  wild  dog-roses  and 
ferns  wrapped  in  moss  and  set  in  a  turtle 
shell. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  in  comical  dismay. 

"How  stupid  I  am!  I  never  asked  if 
you  breakfasted  before  you  came?" 

Saxon  laughed,  and  Edith  said  mis- 
chievously: 

"Yes." 

"  For  shame!  Edith,"  said  Theodora, 
"  No,  Mr.  Westwood.  We  knew  you 
would  want  to  feast  us  and  we  took  only 
a  cup  of  coffee  before  starting." 

"There  it  is  again!"  he  cried,  "coffee! 
—  and  I  never  thought  of  it.  ^ou  see,  I 
never  drink  any  of  these  things,  ^  forget 
others  do.   But  perhaps  I  have  something 


56  The     Natural     Man 

you  will  like."  ^  And  bounding  into  his 
dwelling  [for  he  seldom  seemed  to  walk 
anywhere,  but  ran  or  leaped  like  a  roe- 
buck] he  brought  out  several  long-necked 
bottles  in  his  arms. 

"Sorry.  In  this  case  I  had  to  use  glass. 
I  have  to  compromise  sometimes  with 
civilization,  ^  there  really  seems  nothing 
in  nature  to  take  the  place  of  a  bottle 
where  air  must  be  excluded.  Here  is  un- 
fermented  wine —  this  from  the  wild  grape, 
this  from  wild  raspberries,  this  from  wild 
blackberries,  take  your  choice.  Every  sum- 
mer I  gather  great  quantities  of  wild  fruit 
and  take  it  to  the  Red  Farm  and  they  can 
it  for  me  on  shares,  or  make  wine.  Only 
theirs  they  ferment." 

It  was  a  strange  wild  feast,  which  those 
visitors  never  forgot.  Sitting  on  furs 
around  a  rock,  eating  those  simple,  delici- 


The     Natural     Man  57 

cious  viands  and  drinking  pure  fruit  juice, 
while  the  birds  sang  over  and  around  and 
the  sun  peeped  in  through  the  branches, 
and  the  vale  was  beautiful  before  them. 

And  strangest  of  all  was  that  bare- 
skinned,  sun-tanned  man,  with  the  knotted 
muscles,  soft  voice  i^  happy  dreaming  face. 

The  eave  swallows  flew  twittering 
about  their  homes,  a  cat-bird  was  musically 
busy  in  the  thicket,  a  thrush  sat  fearlessly 
on  her  nest  anear,  while  her  mate  on  the 
dry  branch,  not  twenty  yards  away,  made 
the  air  pulse  with  delicious  music;  and  a 
grey  squirrel  ran  up  to  Forrest's  hand  for 
crumbs,  passing  saucily  under  the  beagles* 
noses,  who  hardly  deigned  to  notice.  And, 
finally,  two  little  kids  came  and  danced  on 
the  rock  at  the  terrace  edge. 

It  was  the  Golden  Age. 

"  Mr.  Westwood"  said  Edith  suddenly, 


58  The     Natural     Man 

"you  are  a  professional  Natural  Man  — 
what  are  the  most  natural  foods  ? " 

He  laughed,  as  he  usually  did  when 
he  spoke,  as  one  might  at  a  favorite  child. 

"  I  fancy,  as  we  are  monkey-cousins, 
that  fruits  and  nuts,  after  original  milk,  are 
the  most  natural.  Eggs  are  like  milk  and 
resemble  nuts.  After  eggs  insects  &"  shell- 
fish; then  fish;  then  flesh.  I  forgot  herbs, 
and  roots  but  they  are  less  natural,  I 
fancy,  anyway." 

"Insects !  —  bugs !  Oh  my !  Are  we  to 
eat  them?" 

"  Monkeys  are  fond  of  many  insects. 
I  suppose  that  our  prejudices  cut  us  ofi^ 
from  much  palatable  food  in  that  line,  for 
no  good  reason.  Certain  grubs  are  consid- 
ered a  delicacy  in  some  parts  of  the  world, 
and  grasshoppers  and  locusts  are  spoken 
of  as  delicious  by  those  who  have  tried 


The     Natural     Man  59 

them."  ^  "  Ugh !  they  may  have  them." 

"  But  you  do  not  mention  the  grains, 
Mr.  Westwood." 

"  No,  for  I  fancy  they  are  least  natural, 
except  in  the  milk. " 

"But  do  you  not  dislike  to  kill?  "said 
Theodora. 

"  No,  my  sympathy  with  nature  does 
not  seem  to  effect  me  in  that  way.  I  have 
much  real  fellow  feeling  with  the  creatures 
but  that  does  not  lead  me  to  abhor  killing. 
That  king  bird,  hovering  so  prettily  in  air, 
has  killed  nine  flies  and  a  midge  since  we 
began  talking,  &  the  thrush  has  killed  for 
his  mate  a  beautiful  caterpillar  at  this 
instant.  Far  up  the  mountain  side —  there! 
do  you  see  him  poise  on  that  butternut? 
—  is  a  red  squirrel  who  will  slip  into  the 
first  unguarded  nest  he  finds  and  suck  the 
eggs  or  the  brains  of  the  nestlings  as  he 


6o  The     Natural     Man 

would  a  nut."  T[  "I  see,  Nature  sets  you 
a  savage  example,  surely.  But  is  there 
nothing  in  nature  that  moves  to  mercy  and 
peace  and  comradeship?" 

"  Certainly,  but  within  the  species  as  a 
rule.  To  your  species  loyalty,  to  other 
species  war,  is  the  law  of  nature  for  gre- 
garious animals.  I  belong  to  the  human 
species  and  to  men  I  give  that  sympathy, 
love  ^  fellowship  which  my  nature  urges." 

"  But  does  it  not  make  the  heart  hard 
to  one*s  fellows  to  kill  anything? " 

"No.  I  never  had  a  hard  heart.  I  do 
not  like  to  give  pain.  I  like  to  kill  instant- 
ly. But  I  never  fought  with  a  man  in  my 
life,  or  wanted  to  injure  one.  Nor  have  I 
ever  seen  any  evidence  to  show  that  hun- 
ters or  butchers  were  murderous  or  cruel 
toward  men.  All  this  talk,  too,  that  diet 
affects  morals  is  mere  superstition.  A  poor- 


The     Natural     Man  6i 

ly-nourished  man  is  always  irritable,  that 
is  all,  but  cruelty  ^  mercy  are  matters  of 
education  and  innate  disposition,  not  of 
beans  or  beef." 

"True,"  said  Edith,  "I  know  Mrs. 
Pearson,  who  lives  on  hot  water  and  raw 
beef.  She  is  the  gentlest  woman  I  know,  a 
Quaker,  i^  a  fanatic  on  cruelty  to  animals." 
"What  is  your  doctrine  of  diet?" 
"  I  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  one,  ex- 
cept simplicity.  Still  I  have  a  prejudice 
against  the  grains.  They  make  people  fat, 
slow,  lazy,  old  too  soon.  Some  roots  are 
as  bad.  I  use  a  little  bread,  but  not  much 
and  that  mainly  corn  bread.  Then  wheat 
fields  and  potato  fields  are  not  as  poetic 
as  groves  and  vineyards  and  orchards. 
In  the  summer  I  live  on  milk,  curds,  eggs, 
fish,  berries,  fresh  vegetables,  melons  and 
tomatoes  from  my  garden.    In  the  winter 


62  The     Natural     Man 

and  fall  and  spring  I  have  game,  beef, 
mutton,  goat-venison,  honey,  canned 
fruits,  apples,  nuts,  milk,  eggs  and  fish  as 
before.  There  are  seasons  too  of  special 
diet.  When  strawberries  are  ripe  I  live  on 
them  almost  altogether.  The  same  with 
huckleberries,  raspberries,  blackberries,  and 
later  grapes,  apples,  nuts  and  persimmons. 
Whatever  food  nature  provides  most  boun- 
tifully I  make  my  chief  food  at  that  season. 
There  is  a  time  when  I  live  altogether  on 
green  corn. 

"You  see  I  want  to  supply  my  own 
wants,  mainly,  and  be  self-sufficient,  and 
live  simply.  I  have  succeeded  better  even 
than  Thoreau.  He  imported  rice,  sugar, 
flour,  cocoa,  salt,  rye  and  Indian  meal, 
molasses,  pork,  lard,  dried  apples.  None 
of  these  things,  I,  except  a  little  bread  or 
Indian  meal  at  intervals;  and  besides  these 


The     Natural     Man  6^ 

I  import  butter,  some  grain  for  my  fowls 
and  cattle,  and  oil  for  my  lamp.  And  my 
exports,  you  see,  are  considerable.  My 
surplus  milk  and  eggs,  honey,  apples,  ber- 
ries, nuts,  game,  fish,  calves,  colts,  puppies, 
— why  the  sale  of  my  puppies  alone  would 
more  than  buy  all  that  I  use,  except  books. 
"And  then,  by  daring  to  live  the  sim- 
ple, natural,  savage  life,  I  save  so  many 
expenses.  Thoreau  bought  shoes,  I  make 
my  own  moccasins  or  sandals  and  wear 
those  only  on  rough  journeys  or  in  winter. 
He  bought  clothes.  I  make  mine  of  leather 
or  corduroy,  for  I  can  tan  as  well  as  an 
Indian,  and  can  cut  and  sew  as  well  as  any 
tailor,  ^  in  summer,  as  you  see,  the  labor 
in  that  line  is  not  much.  I  make  my 
own  bows  and  arrows,  boomerangs, 
raw-hide  lassoos,  sometimes  even  bone 
fish    hooks.    It    is    delightful    and  poetic 


64  The     Natural     Man 

to  live  the  life  of  the  primative  man.  My 
arrows  are  tipped  with  real  Indian-made 
flints,  picked  up  here  and  there  in  many- 
states,  i^  I  have  two-hundred  odd  of  them. 
The  bow  strings  are  of  sinew.  I  sleep  in 
skins.  You  see  how  simple  my  agriculture 
is;  my  grapes  and  berries  grow  wild,  my 
apples  need  little  care,  my  garden  is  but 
small  and  the  work  in  it  a  delight.  In  the 
winter  I  raise  the  water  of  my  pond  sev- 
eral feet  and  that  floods  many  acres  where 
lush  grass  grows  in  summer.  They  come 
from  the  Red  Farm  and  help  me  cut  that 
on  shares.  Really,  the  only  thing  that 
troubles  me  is  the  thought  that  I  am  liv- 
ing here  in  idyllic  happiness  while  hun- 
dreds, thousands,  yes,  millions  of  my 
fellows  endure  miseries  I  dare  not  dwell 
on.  I  have  no  more  land  than  an  average 
farmer,  and  that  poor  and  stony.   I  do  so 


The     Natural     Man  65 

little  I  am  almost  ashamed  when  I  com- 
pare it  with  the  agonized  struggle  of  all 
about  me,  and  yet  I  produce  more  than  I 
want  and  am  actually  growing  rich  on  my 
surplus/' 

And  he  stopped  and  looked  at  them 

with  an  expression  of  perplexity,  wonder 

and  apology  on  his  face  almost  child-like. 

Saxon  Ward  was  sitting  with  his  chin 

in  his  hands,  staring  at  him. 

"You  always    make    me    feel    like    a 
fool ! "  he  blurted. 

Forrest  laughed  ^  rolling  over  on  the 
ground  looked  up  at  the  sky. 

"I  am  very  different  from  these  others-" 
"  Different !  I  should  say  so.  You  are 
the  most  original  man  I  ever  knew,  and 
by  George !  you  are  the  sanest.  The  rest 
of  men  are  a  pack  of  idiots.  You  have 
everything  in  life  worth  living  for — buoy- 


66  The     Natural     Man 

ant  health,  leisure,  intimacy  with  Nature, 
time  to  read,  to  think,  to  realize  your  own 
happiness,  to  work  out  your  own  artistic 
longings,  room  to  grow  and  be  yourself, 
creature  comforts,  &'  untrammeled  liberty- 
yes  the  rest  of  us  are  all  crazy." 

"  I  think  it  is  this  way,"  said  Forrest, 
tickling  the  stomach  of  the  great  black  cat, 
who  lay  on  her  back  and  alternately  purred 
and  lazily  struck  at  him,  "  I  am  an  egoist. 
I  think  only  of  myself,  but  other  people, 
I  think,  make  the  mistake  of  forgetting 
themselves." 

"How  do  you  mean?" 

"Why  they  no  sooner  begin  to  start 
in  life  than  they  begin  to  think  about  other 
things  ^  other  people  more  than  them- 
selves. They  have  what  they  call 
'ambitions.'  Clothes  like  other  people, 
houses  like  other  people,  food  like  other 


The     Natural     Man  67 

people,  business  like  other  people,  opinions 
like  other  people,  customs,  manners,  re- 
ligion, politics  all  like  other  people.  That's 
the  way  the  race  runs,  ^  every  man  in 
the  race  is  trying  so  hard  to  catch  up  with 
the  one  before  him  that  he  has  no  time  to 
think  of  himself,  except  the  head  man, 
and  he  runs  so  hard  to  keep  ahead  that  he 
has  no  more  time  for  self-acquaintance 
than  the  others,  and  dies  struggling  just 
as  hard  as  the  last  man  in  the  procession. 
Not  one  is  contented,  or  can  give  any  sane 
reason  for  his  'ambitions.'  Now  that  is  a 
true  picture  of  civilization.  Bah  !  I  would 
rather  be  a  savage." 

"I  see.** 

"But  I  am  not  willing  to  sacrifice  my- 
self to  things.  /  am  more  than  clothes, 
houses,  money,  business,  reputation,  eti- 
quette, religion,  fashion,  codes,  &'  institu- 


68  The     Natural     Man 

tions.  To  grow  like  a  tree  in  the  forest, 
bearing  my  own  leaves  ^  fruit  on  my  own 
roots,  in  my  own  soil,  is  my  ambition.  Let 
others  do  as  they  will,  I  ask  nothing  from 
them  but  room  to  grow." 

"I  don't  see,"  said  Edith,  "how  you 
ever  came  to  ihink  of  such  a  thing  as  Hving 
this  way." 

"And  I  wonder  not  so  much,"  said 
Miss  Earle,  "at  the  thought  as  at  the 
courage  to  live  it." 

"Was  it  Thoreau  that  suggested  it?" 
said  Ward. 

"  No.  Strangely,  I  never  read  Thoreau 
till  I  was  nearly  a  man  and  all  this  had 
taken  shape.  Thoreau  encouraged  me,  that 
is  all.  I  was  an  original,  headstrong  boy, 
loving  to  be  alone  and  to  think.  When  I 
first  learned  to  read  I  read  a  book  about 
IndianSj-CatHn's.  I  decided  that  the  Indian 


The     Natural     Man  69 

was  wiser  than  the  white  man  and  made 
him  my  teacher.  I  devoured  books  only 
to  absorb  everything  that  praised  nature, 
and  savage,  simple,  wise  living.  Theocritus 
made  a  great  impression  on  me,  and  Epi- 
curus, and  Marcus  Aurelius.  The  Red 
Man  and  the  Greek  were  the  influences 
that  shaped  my  soul.  It  has  always  seemed 
to  me  that  when  civilization  is  questioned 
by  the  savage  it  has  but  a  sorry  little  to 
say  for  itself. 

"At  any  rate  I  decided  it  had  nothing 
for  me,  except  books.  Art,  and  a  few  of  its 
simplest  inventions.  It  did  not  take  much 
courage.  Miss  Earle.  I  decided  to  be 
myself  when  a  mere  child,  and  after  that 
everything  was  easy  and  inevitable.  Had  I 
lived  for  praise,  first,  it  would  have  taken 
courage.'* 

"  But  come,"  he  said,  bounding  to  his 


70 


The     Natural     Man 


feet  with  that  sudden,  elastic  springiness 
so  characteristic,  "  I  will  show  you  Cave 
Gables/* 

And  hustling  his  quaint  table  ware  into 
the  brook,  leaving  dogs,  cat  and  birds  to 
dispose  of  the  crumbs,  he  led  the  way  to 
his  odd  abode. 


CHAPTER      IF 


RIGINALLY  Cave  Gables 
had  been  a  great  rock  on  the 
mountain.  Crashing  down  in 
some  ancient  landslide  it  had 
split  crucially  ^  now  there  were  four  rocks 
instead  of  one,  lying  there  on  the  terrace, 
close  to  the  steep,  ten  feet  high  or  so,  and 
rather  more  feet  apart.  Forrest  had  leisure- 
ly erected  a  Gothicroof  of  peeled  chestnut 
logs,  clapboarded  with  riven  shingles, 
and  then  covered  these  with  earth  and 
stones,  brought  down  from  the  steep  above, 
till  only  the  sharp  gables  emerged  from 
the  mound. 


72  The     Natural     Man 

A  curious  building,  half  art,  half  na- 
ture, part  cave,  part  castle,  with  goats 
running  ^  birds  nesting  on  the  roof.  The 
greater  part  of  each  gable  taken  up  by  a 
glass  window  above,  and  a  massive  door 
of  hewn  planks  and  wooden  hinges  below. 

On  each  side  of  the  front  door,  in  the 
soft  sandstone,  were  little  caverns  scooped, 
where  the  great  mastiffs  lay  —  "  Watch  " 
and  "Ward." 

Leonine,  yellow  eyes  gleamed  kindly 
at  them  as  they  entered  and  canine  tails 
beat  the  welcome-tattoo. 

Because  of  the  great  trees  that  grew 
around  it  was  shady  and  cool  within,  in 
spite  of  the  large,  uncurtained  windows, 
and  the  apex  of  the  Gothic  roof  was  dim 
and  dusky.  The  house,  within,  was  a  Ro- 
man cross,  the  long  arm  to  the  west,  the 
short  ones  north,  south,  and  east.    Thus, 


The     Natural     Man  73 

though  there  were  no  partitions,  there  were 
really  four  rooms,  each  about  ten  feet  wide, 
or  rather  more,  with  rock  walls  ten  feet 
high.  The  floor, —  the  native  soil  beaten 
hard  and  smooth,  swept  clean,  ^  adorned 
here  and  there  with  skin  rugs  and  curious- 
ly woven  mats. 

"  It  is  Forrest's  fancy,"  explained  Saxon 
Ward  to  Miss  Earle,  "that  a  man's  house 
should  correspond  to  his  character.  He 
v/ould  have  every  one  be  architect,  if  not 
the  builder,  of  his  home." 

"  Nature  helped  me  here,  design  and 
build  it,  too,"  said  Westwood.  "  I  have 
another  whim  that  every  thing  in  my 
home  should  be  home-made,  or  at  least, 
hand-made,  and  so  full  of  associations.  I 
haven't  quite  succeeded,  but  pretty  near  it." 

The  west  room  attracted  them.  On  one 
side  it  was  piled  high  with  cord  wood.  On 


74  The     Natural     Man 

the  other  was  a  long  closet  of  wattle  or 
wicker  work,  a  sort  of  pantry. 

"This  is  my  basket  ^  store/'  laughed 
Forrest,  opening  a  wicker  door  in  this  and 
showing  them  the  interior.  Very  strange 
^  primitive  it  looked —  puncheon  shelves, 
barrels  made  from  hollow  logs,  troughs, 
wooden  bowls,  gourds,  baskets,  nothing 
modern  except  glass  bottles  and  fruit  cans. 

The  north  room  was  the  "winter 
room."  No  window  in  this  gable,  and  the 
whole  room  had  an  inner  and  level  ceiling 
of  hewn  puncheons  laid  round  side  down. 
This  left  a  loft  above,  to  which  there  was 
a  ladder  from  the  outside  or  middle  of  the 
cross;  the  entrance  to  the  room  draped 
with  deerskin  curtains. 

At  the  inner  end  of  the  "winter  room" 
was  a  fireplace  built  of  rocks  as  large  as 
this  strange  savage  could  carry  and  piled 


The     Natural     Man  75 

up  not  inartistically.  Before  this  a  great 
bear  skin  rug,  ^  above  a  puncheon  mantel 
and  a  moose  skull  and  antlers.  The  fire- 
dogs,  two  slender,  sooty,  horned  devils  of 
hammered  iron,  their  tails  running  back  to 
hold  the  logs. 

Overhead,  suspended  from  the  log 
ceiling  by  iron  chains,  was  a  rude  dragon, 
also  of  hammered  iron,  bearing  a  lamp  in 
the  claws  of  each  front  foot. 

"A  blacksmith,  who  has  art  as  well  as 
iron  in  his  blood,  made  me  these  for 
birthgifts,'*  Forrest  said. 

"  Look  at  his  bed !  "  cried  Edith. 

It  was  a  short,  broad  canoe  of  tulip 
wood,  beautifully  carved  and  inlaid  with 
owls,  bats,  moons,  stars  i^  other  nocturnal 
devices,  the  background  stained  black. 
This  half  filled  with  dried  fern  leaves, 
sweet-fern  leaves,  bay  leaves,  pine,  cedar 


76  The     Natural     Man 

and  hemlock  needles,  and  no  telling  what 
else  woodsy,  soft  and  fragrant.  The  whole 
nest  completed  by  beautiful  robes  of  musk- 
rat,  raccoon,  mink,  and  other  soft  furs, 
tanned  with  the  hair  on,  and  painted  on  the 
inside  with  Indian  pictures,  each  robe  a 
complete  epic  of  forest  life. 

The  rest  of  the  furniture  consisted 
of  two  well  filled  bookcases  with  puncheon 
shelves  and  buckskin  curtains;  a  three- 
legged  little  puncheon  writing  table;  a 
a  great  basket  armchair  made  of  bulrushes; 
an  immense  stuffed  buffalo  head,  used  as 
an  ottoman;  skin  rugs;  ^  queer  cushions 
made  of  skins  of  raccoons,  foxes,  etc., 
heads  and  tails  on,  stuffed  with  wild-fowl 
feathers. 

Theodora  noticed  that  the  pens  were 
wild-goose  quills,  the  inkstand  a  carved 
horn,  ^  a  fossil  ammonite  the  paper-weight. 


The     Natural     Man 


77 


"When  I  draw  those  buckskin  cur- 
tains, and  shut  this  room  off,  on  cold 
nights,  it's  snug  enough  before  a  good  fire.'' 

"  Yes,"  said  Ward,  "  I  was  here,  once, 
on  a  winter  night,  when  the  wind  howled 
without.  To  see  Forrest  sitting  on  that 
buffalo  head,  dressed  hke  an  Indian,  the 
collies,  mastiffs  ^  beagles  sprawled  about, 
the  black  cat  blinking  at  the  devils  in  the 
fire,  while  the  flame-light  danced  around 
the  room  and  lit  up  the  carvings  and  those 
drawings  on  the  buckskin  tapestries,  made 
a  savage  picture  I  shall  never  forget." 

There  were  two  Indian  pipes,  feather- 
fringed,  long-stemmed,  crossed  on  the  wall 
with  an  Indian  pouch. 

"Do  you  smoke?"  asked  Miss  Earle 
in  amazement. 

"Yes,  and  no.  I  learned  to  smoke 
among  the  Indians  to  be  able  to  accept  the 


yS  The     Natural     Man 

pipe  of  peace.  The  Indian  was  superior 
even  in  his  vices.  Before  the  whites  came 
from  Eskimo-land  to  Aztec-land  there 
was  not  an  Indian  who  knew  how  to  brew 
an  intoxicating  drink,  or  to  use  it.  Tobacco 
was  the  only  solace,  ^  that  was  diluted  into 
*  Kin-nee-Kin-nick '  and  used  most  tem- 
perately. Tobacco-smoking  is  the  least 
harmful  of  all  the  drug-vices  ^  the  most 
poetic  and  philosophic.  When  a  friend 
comes  who  smokes  I  offer  him  my  pipe 
of  peace,  but  I  never  smoke  now,  myself. 
Even  tobacco  is  too  disturbing.  I  love  an 
unclouded  soul. 

That  pipe  was  given  me  by  the  New 
York  Indians  when  they  adopted  me.  The 
bowl  is  from  the  famous  Pipestone  Quarry 
in  Minnesota.  The  other  bowl  is  of  burn- 
ed clay.  I  found  it  when  digging  in  my 
garden.   Perhaps  some  other  savage  raised 


The     Natural     Man 


79 


corn  there  before  me." 

They  examined  the  east  room.  It  had 
a  number  of  book  cases,  a  massive  table 
of  hewn  timbers  pinned  together  ^  several 
of  the  woven,  bulrush  armchairs.  On  the 
table  Miss  Earle  noticed  the  rough  draft 
of  a  poem,  which  she  obtained  permission 
to  read. 

A  TR  UE  MAN  is  a  FOREST  TREE, 
O  Liberty^  I  love  thee  passing  well^ 
And  spurn  the  sordid  thoughts  of  those  who 

tell 
Of  values  compassed  by  betraying  thee  — 
Cheapo  cheapo  too  cheap  the  price  at  which 

they  sell, 

I  love  the  rivers  and  the  open  air. 
The  clouds^  the  wilderness^  and  wild  things 
there; 


8o  The     Natural     Man 

And  say  a  true  man  is  a  forest  tree. 
By  Nature  planted  deep  and  rooted  fair. 

I  love  the  windfloods  and  the  shaken  sea, 
'The  great  blue  sky-tenfs  clean  immensity, 
The  manly  mountain  and  the  pregnant  plain; 
With  these  the  song-soul  breathes  in  sympathy, 

I  love  the  primal,  ancient,  granite  fact. 
The  mystic  meaning  moving  in  the  a^; — 
The  old  world-currents  tiding  in  my  brain 
Make  seem  small  loss  the  gew-gaws  I  have 
lacked. 

It  was  noticable  in  this  room,  as  well 
as  the  entrance  hall,  that  the  soft  sand- 
stone walls  were  freely  chiseled  into  sig- 
nificant shapes,  some  weird,  some  grotesque, 
some  dimly  suggestive,  as  though  the 
rock  had  naturally  ^  accidentally  assumed 


The     Natural     Man  8i 

familiar  shape.  ^  The  east  room  wall  sug- 
gested a  dark  or  cavernous  forest  full  of 
mystery  — 

Tree-trunks,  rocks,  guarded  branches 
half  lost  in  misty  formlessness  here  and 
there  a  human  foot,  or  leg,  or  hand  or 
half-everted  face  showing;  or  the  coils  of 
a  serpent  with  hidden  head;  or  vague  forms 
of  lurking  feroe. 

In  the  entrance  hall  the  conceptions 
were  heroic  and  clearly  wrought  out.  On 
the  west  side  Indians  and  dogs  were  in 
furious  combat  with  a  bear,  on  the  east  was 
an  imaginary  home  scene  of  pre-historic 
man.  Both  full  of  spirit  ^  skillful  shaping. 

"O  my!  Look  at  these  eyes!  —  What 
is  it,  a  wildcat?"  and  Edith  caught  For- 
rest's arm  and  pointed  into  the  dark  loft. 

Forrest  laughed  and  gave  a  chuck,  and 
Edith  screamed  and  jumped    aside    as    a 


82  The     Natural     Man 

great  bird  floated  down,  like  a  ghost  to  his 
head,  making  the  cavernous  dwelling  ring 
as  he  suddenly  erected  himself  and,  glar- 
ing at  them  with  wild  eyes,  uttered  a 
demoniac  hoo-hoo-hooer-hool 

"That  is  my  winged  cat,  Hoolahoo. 
I  raised  him  from  a  baby,"  said  Forrest, 
stroking  the  bird,  who  glared  at  them  sus- 
piciously for  a  few  moments,  his  eyes 
gradually  closing  to  mere  slits,  and  then, 
lifting  his  wings,  flew  noiselessly  back  to 
the  loft. 

"At  night  he  comes  in  i^  out  of  yonder 
hole  in  the  peak,  and  by  day  other  birds 
come  in  i^  out  there  too.  I  have  not  learned 
to  consider  a  bird  in  my  house  unlucky." 

"  *  Hoolahoo  ! '  an  Irish  owl ! "  giggled 
Edith  the  irrepressible. 

The  only  other  noticeable  features  of 
the  dwelling  were  a  carpenter  bench  be- 


The     Natural     Man  83 


yond  the  "  Basket  and  store,"  and  the 
various  ornaments  and  utensils  hung  on  all 
the  walls  —  antlers,  skulls  and  heads  of 
wild  animals;  horns,  pouches,  lariats,  fish 
rods,  fish  spears,  hunting  knives,  axes  and 
hatchets,  bows  &  arrows,  lances,  clubs  and 
canes,  guns  and  pistols,  gourds. 

Perhaps  most  curious  of  all,  up  in  the 
roof,  near  the  hole,  was  an  immense  hor- 
net's nest  with  the  insects  busily  going  in 
and  out. 

"  I  think  I  remember,"  said  Miss  Earle, 
"reading  in  '  Walden'  of  a  dream  Thoreau 
had  of  'a  larger  and  more  populous  house' 
than  his,  'standing  in  a  golden  age  *  *  *  a 
vast,  rude,  substantial,  primitive  hall;  *  *  * 
a  cavernous  house  wherein  you  must  reach 
up  a  torch  upon  a  pole  to  see  the  roof.'" 

"  When  I  read  that  I  was  '  struck  all 
of  a  heap '  for  I  had  built  this  house  first. 


84  The     Natural     Man 

It  seemed  strange  that  my  partly  accident- 
al house  should  so  nearly  have  realized 
his  ideal.'* 

Coming  outside  Forrest  brought  his 
flute. 

"  Wait  here  a  moment." 

Springing  up  the  sides  of  the  irregular 
exterior  of  his  dwelling  he  seated  himself 
on  a  ledge  ^  began  playing  a  weird  mel- 
ody. And  as  they  looked  a  great  snake, 
shining  black,  slid  out  from  among  the 
rocks. 

Six  feet  long,  the  constrictor  seemed 
in  ecstasy.  His  body  expanded  and  con- 
tracted with  long-drawn  breaths,  his  neck 
lifted  and  swayed  rhythmically,  his  tongue 
darted  unceasingly  in  ^  out,  his  eyes  were 
bright  yet  mild.  He  drew  near  to  Forrest 
and  swayed  before  him,  then,  suddenly, 
while  Edith  cried  out  with  terror,  twined 


The     Natural     Man  85 

around  his  leg  and  quickly  up  to  his  neck, 
where  he  stroked  his  head  about  the  man's 
-face  like  an  affectionate  cat. 

Forrest  put  down  the  flute,  talked 
gently  to  the  creature,  petted  him,  un- 
wound &  laid  him  gently  down,  and  then 
came  to  them. 

"  O  horrid ! "  said  Edith,  "  why  do  you 
make  pets  of  such  dreadful  creatures!  " 

Forrest  smiled. 

"  I  have  a  pet  toad,  too." 

"  I  am  disgusted.  Why  do  you  not 
love  beautiful  things,  only  P  " 

"Beauty  is  a  matter  of  appreciation." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  toad  is 
as  beautiful  as  the  humming-bird?" 

"It  is  a  matter  of  appreciation." 

"Forrest  argues"  said  Saxon,  seeing 
that  his  friend  had  fallen  into  an  abstracted 
silence,     "that    everything    in    nature    is 


86  The     Natural     Man 

beautiful,  that  everything  in  the  universe 
has  its  charm.  It  is  for  us  to  find  the  charm 
and  appreciate  the  beauty,  and  the  volume 
of  the  sum  total  of  our  pleasure  depends 
upon  the  thoroughness  of  our  appreciation." 

"  Well,  I  declare,  you  gentlemen  make 
me  out  narrow,  prejudiced  and  ignorant  to 
your  satisfaction,"  pouted  Edith. 

"  Everything  has  its  charm,"  smiled 
Forrest,  looking  at  her. 

"  Even  the  screams  and  pouts  of  a 
pretty  woman,"  seconded  Saxon. 

"There's  not  much  charm  in  being 
laughed  at." 

"  Laugh  with  the  laughers  and  you 
laugh  as  long  as  they." 

"And  have  a  double  laugh  —  with 
and  at  them." 

Edith  began  to  smile  at  her  tormentors. 

"  But  there  are  normal  differences  of 


The     Natural     Man  87 

beauty  and  charm  in  the  relation  of  phe- 
nomena to  ourselves;  while  abstractly  they 
may  be  equal,  our  history  and  physiology 
justify  all  our  likes  and  dislikes." 

"Thank  you,  Forrest." 

"Yet  whoso  cultivates  the  overlook 
sees  the  most  beauty  and  joy." 

"If  charms  are  equal,  the  city  is  as 
good  as  the  forest,  the  artificial  life  as  the 
natural  —  aha!  I  have  you.  Sir  Savage  !" 

"  Not  yet.  I  repeat,  charms  are  ab- 
stractly equal  but  race  history  &'  individual 
constitution  justify  our  preferences  —  the 
city  charms,  artificiality  has  joys,  luxury 
delights,  vice  and  crime  and  all  evil  have 
attending  pleasures —  yet  man  was  wilder- 
ness-born and  wilderness-reared.  The  few 
generations  of  artificiality  have  not  aborted 
the  instincts  inherited  through  long  ages 
of  nature.    The  happiness  and  health  for 


88 


The     Natural     Man 


which  the  city  man  sighs  and  struggles  are 
easy  as  breathing  to  the  natural  man/' 

"  Do  you  distinguish  between  happi- 
ness and  pleasure?"  asked  Miss  Earle. 

"Certainly.  Happiness  is  the  pleasure 
—  the  joy  of  healthy  existence  ^  healthy 
action  in  soul  and  body." 


CHAP  T  E  R      V 


HAT  will  you  have  for  din- 
ner?" he  suddenly  asked. 

"O/'  said  Edith,  "give  us 
just  what  you  would  have  had 
yourself.  We  want  to  live  just  as  you  do, 
today." 

"Yes,"  said  Theodora,  "  today  we  are 
your  disciples." 

"  But  I  meant  to  pick  my  dinner  from 

the  wild  strawberry  vines." 

"  Delightful ! —  so  will  we." 

"Well,  we  had  better  commence  now. 

I   see  by  the  sun  that  it  is  approaching 

noon,  and  one  takes  more  time  satisfying 


90 


The     Natural     Man 


hunger,  picking  food  bit  by  bit  in  that 
wild  way." 

So  he  led  them  to  places  where,  among 
the  rich  grass,  the  ruddy  fruit  grew  in 
profusion.  "They  are  ripe  before  the  grass 
this  year,"  he  said. 

"  Do  you  remember,"  he  asked,  "that 
Thoreau  relates  that  when  he  was  so  an- 
archistic as  to  refuse  to  pay  his  poll  tax, 
and  they  imprisoned  him,  he  was  released 
in  time  to  pick  his  dinner  of  huckleberries 
on  Fair  Haven  Hill?" 

"Yes,  I  remember;  it  is  in  '  Walden.' " 

"Do  you  pay  a  poll  tax,  Mr.  West- 
wood?  " 

"O  yes,  I  pay  taxes,  of  course.  I 
believe  in  these  things  no  more  than 
Emerson  or  Thoreau,  but  resistance  to 
them  is  folly,  except  on  the  mental  plane. 
Some  day  the  world  will  understand  that 


The     Natural     Man 


91 


to   take  any  man's  property  without  his 
consent  is  robbery,  ^  then  taxes  will  cease.'* 

"  But  what  will  support  social  institu- 
tions ? " 

"  Free  contributions  will  support  what- 
ever institutions  the  people  desire,  just  as 
churches  are  supported  now  in  these 
States." 

He  made  them  dainty  cups  of  leaves, 
sewn  together  with  their  own  stems. 

"Take  these  and  put  berries  in  them, 
eating  as  you  work,  &  when  we  each  have 
a  cup  full  we  will  go  to  our  table  and  sit 
in  the  shade  and  eat  them." 

When  their  cups  were  full  they  did  so, 
and  he  brought  them  fresh  cream  and 
maple  sugar  and  carven  spoons,  and  they 
feasted  divinely.  And  he  gave  each  a  chap- 
let  of  vine  leaves  ^  an  owl  plume,  and  said 
laughingly:  "Now  you  are  my  disciples." 


92  The     Natural     Man 

"This  grove  is  like  a  temple,"  said 
Saxon. 

"Yes,  I  think  all  architecture  was 
suggested  by  nature  and  imitates  it." 

"  Mr.  Westwood,  why  dorit  you  go  to 
church? " 

He  put  on  a  comical  look. 

"  Do  you  really  think,  if  I  went  to 
church  next  Sunday,  'just  as  I  am,  without 
one  plea,'  that  I  would  be  welcome?" 

Edith  laughed,  as  her  fancy  conjured 
up  the  vision  of  this  naked  pagan  sitting 
in  a  stuffy  tabernacle  among  the  scented 
ladies  and  starched  deacons  of  the  scandal- 
ized congregation. 

"  I  really  don't  think  the  church  has 
anything  for  me.  Miss  Lyle." 

" '  The  friendly  ^  flowing  savage,  who 
is  he?  Is  he  waiting  for  civilization,  or  is  he 
past  it,  and  mastering  it?'"  quoted  Saxon. 


The     Natural     Man 


93 


"  Mr.  Westwood,"  said  Theodora,  with 
her  grave  thoughtful  tones,  "would  you 
mind  telling  us  what  you  think  of  religious 
things;  your  views  are  different  from  those 
of  most,  I  fancy?  " 

He  leaned  back  against  the  shagbark 
and  looked  up  among  the  leaves,  while  the 
black  cat  rubbed,  purring,  against  him. 

"Yes,  so  different  that  I  hardly  know 
how  to  tell  them.  No  one  ever  asked  me 
before." 

"As  a  youth  I  rejected  all  creeds,  re- 
velations, gods.  I  was  atheist,  or,  better, 
agnostic,  for  I  said  I  did  not  know.  But 
neither  did  I  believe.  But  gradually  a 
strange  feeling  of  kinship  between  myself 
and  nature  grew  in  me.  I  gave  myself  up 
more  and  more  to  these  strange  invisible 
currents  of  life,  as  the  sea  obeys  the  moon 
and  the  sap  the  seasons.  The  feeling  which 


94  The     Natural     Man 

I  had  always  had  that  in  the  trees  <y  rocks 
was  life,  a  Hfe  similar  to  my  own  except  in 
degree,  intensified,  until  suddenly  the 
whole  thing  crystallized,  as  it  were,  and  I 
saw  that  the  whole  universe  was  One 
Great  Life.'* 

"Pantheism,"  said  Saxon. 

"Perhaps  you  may  call  it  that.  But  I 
am  not  sure  it  is  like  other  people's  pan- 
theism. To  me  the  universe  is  a  living 
organism,  living,  breathing,  intelligent 
throughout,  if  you  do  not  define  these 
terms  too  rigidly.  I  feel  that  in  the  whole 
infinite  universe  there  is  but  one  life,  one 
force,  one  element,  one  substance,  one  ex- 
istence^ one  fact  —  One.  It  seems  to  me 
that  all  these  apparent  forces,  substances, 
elements,  are  infinitely  interchangeable  ^ 
elusive  and  at  bottom  the  same." 

"  But  what  puzzles  me  in  pantheism  is 


The     Natural     Man 


95 


to  know  where  /  come  in,"  said  Saxon. 

"Yes,   I    understand.    I    would    have 
been  a  pantheist  years  before  had   I   not 
felt  that  to  hold  the  doctrine  was  to  lose 
my  own  identity.    But  suddenly  I   saw  it 
differently.    If  there  is  in  all  the  universe 
but  One,  then  I  am  that  One;  not  in  the 
sense  of  completeness,  of  course,  but  in 
the  sense  of  continuity  ^  identity  of  spirit 
and  substance  and    nature.    This    is    the 
hardest  part  to  explain  to  you;  indeed  I 
do  not  know  that  I  can  make  you  see  it 
as  I  see  it."  He  paused  a  moment  ^  then 
pointed  to  the  brook.    "You  see  that  the 
water  divides  there  and  flows  on  each  side 
of  a  great  rock.    Now,  if  we  imagine  the 
brook    endowed    with    consciousness,    no 
doubt  the  stream  on  the  right  of  the  rock 
will  feel  itself  separate  from  the  stream  on 
the  left,  but  to   us  they  are  plainly  con- 


g6  The     Natural     Man 

tinuous  and  the  same.  So  I  suppose  every 
life  in  the  world  flows  from  the  same  in- 
finite source  and  finally  returns  to  it  and 
while  feeling  itself  separate,  because  limited 
and  partial,  is  really  continuous  and  the 
same." 

"O  I  understand  you!"  cried  Theo- 
dora, "  I  see  it  all.  What  an  infinite 
dignity  ^  largeness  it  seems  to  give  one's 
life !  It  awes  me." 

"Yes,"  said  Forrest,  with  a  grateful 
look  at  her,  "and  you  feel  that  more  and 
more  as  you  consider  it.  You  realize  that 
not  only  are  you  continuous  with  the 
divine  cause,  but  with  the  whole  universe 
in  its  every  part  and  motion.  Every  man 
that  you  see  is  yourself  under  another  form, 
every  animal  also,  and  not  only  that,  but 
every  rock  &  tree,  the  streams,  the  fields, 
the  skies.  You  are  everywhere  and  every- 


The     Natural     Man 


97 


thing.  The  sense  of  Identity,  individuality 
and  personality  which  you  possess  you 
now  see  is  really  a  dim  and  partial  appre- 
hension of  your  Divine  Personality  and 
immortality.  You  have  lived  forever  and 
shall  live  forever,  for  you  are  the  One 
Only  and  Self-existent.  You  may  die  mil- 
lions of  times,  as  regards  change  of  form, 
and  still  you  have  eternal  ^  Indestrudlible 
life.  You  are  able  to  give  yourself  up  un- 
restrainedly to  the  enjoyment  of  the  passing 
panorama  of  life,  because  it  Is  the  pano- 
rama of  your  own  eternal  evolution.  You 
are  at  peace  with  God,  because  you  are 
God,  you  are  at  peace  with  the  universe 
because  you  are  the  universe,  you  are  at 
peace  with  men  because  you  are  mankind. 
You  begin  to  understand  the  divine 
serenity  of  Emerson,  the  child-like  ease 
and  sufficiency  of  Thoreau,  the    infinite 


98  The     Natural     Man 

comradeship  of  Whitman.  These  men  all 
felt  more  or  less  clearly  their  continuity 
with  the  universe.  As  you  grow  into  the 
thought,  everything  enlarges.  This  life  is 
but  a  days  journey,  there  are  millions  more 
before  you;  death  is  but  a  sleep,  a  change 
of  form,  and  no  matter  how  long  you  sleep, 
or  what  you  dream,  you  shall  wake  and 
know  yourself  at  last.  You  have  all  the 
time  there  is  to  grow  in,  all  the  universe 
to  enjoy  yourself  in,  and  you  shall  see  all 
things  and  have  all  experience." 

"  It  is  very  great,"  said  Saxon,  ^^  but  I 
do  not  understand,  if  we  are  continuous 
with  God  and  of  the  same  substance,  how 
it  is  that  we  can  be  so  weak  and  wicked, 
and  full  of  mistakes  and  trouble." 

"  It  is  a  problem  that  seems  to  me  fully 
answered  by  my  theory,"  said  Forrest, 
"  God  is  complete,  he  is  everything;  being 


The     Natural     Man  99 

complete,  he  is  perfect,  for  only  complete- 
ness can  be  perfect.  But  we,  so  far  as  we 
are  members  and  parts  of  God  are  incom- 
plete, imperfect,  for  the  partial  cannot  be 
perfect.  And  imperfection  explains  it  all  — 
our  strength  is  imperfect  therefore  we  are 
weak;  our  goodness  is  imperfect  therefore 
we  are  wicked;  our  wisdom  is  incomplete 
therefore  we  are  full  of  mistakes.  And 
where  there  are  weakness,  sin,  mistakes, 
there  must  surely  be  regret  and  trouble. 
But  we  can  not  reproach  the  Perfect  for 
our  imperfections,  because  to  give  us  any 
separate  life  at  all  he  had  to  give  us  the  life 
we  have  with  all  its  consequences;  he  could 
not,  mighty  as  he  is,  make  the  partial  at 
the  same  time  whole,  and  the  imperfect  at 
the  same  time  perfect,  and  so  all  the  rest 
follows.  And  from  this  I  deduce  that  the 
futher  we  are  from  the  divine,  the  center. 


lOO  The     Natural     Man 

the  source,  the  more  imperfect,  the  weaker^ 
the  more  ugly,  foolish,  wrong  we  are  and 
that,  on  the  other  hand,  every  step  of  ap- 
proach toward  the  divine  makes  us  strong- 
er, wiser,  more  sane,  healthy,  happy;  better 
balanced,  completer.  This  explains  the 
instant  satisfaction  ^growing  reward  which 
comes  to  every  man  who  aspires  to  a 
higher  life,  who  covets  wisdom,  who  pur- 
sues beauty,  who  idealizes  and  worships 
his  ideals;  it  explains  the  inevitable  delight 
of  charity,  generosity,  liberality,  comrade- 
ship, for  all  these  things  unite  us  ^  draw 
toward  the  source." 

He  stopped  and  seemed  lost  in  thought 
and  they  looked  at  him  in  wonder,  almost 
in  reverence. 

"  It  explains  and  justifies  all  religions," 
he  went  on,  dreamily,  "everything  and 
every  thought  has  sometime  ^  somewhere 


The     Natural     Man  ioi 


been  worshipped.  And  rightly,  for  every- 
thing and  every  thought  is  divine.  The 
divine  is  in  everything,  serpent,  tree,  or 
stone,  and  everything  is  a  symbol  of  divine 
things,  and  every  book  is  a  Bible  iff  every 
thought  a  revelation,  and  every  man  a 
Messiah." 

"  Ugh!  "  said  Edith,  with  comical  hor- 
ror, "Suppose  my  Methodist  minister  heard 
of  such  things.  Justifying  idolatry!  I  ought 
not  to  listen  to  such  words." 

"It  is  grand,  sublime!  "  said  Theodora 
with  a  flash  of  her  dark  eyes.  "The  noblest 
gospel  that  ever  I  heard,  and  the  only  one 
that  ever  gave  my  sceptical,  pessimistic 
nature  the  least  feeling  of  security  ^  peace. 
There  is  room  in  this.  It  is  a  religion  for 
grown-up  folks." 

Forrest  smiled  at  her  enthusiasm  and 
stroked  the  black  cat  sleeping  between  his 


I02  The     Natural     Man 

knees. T[  "  It  makes  one  very  contented  and 
happy.  There  is  charm,  beauty,  divinity 
in  everything,  however  lonely  or  ugly.  On 
one  side,  at  least,  each  thing  lays  hold  on 
everything  ^  extends  to  infinity  and  there 
is  no  real  separation.  We  are  like  the  sea 
'in  the  hollow  of  his  hand'  and  cannot  fall 
out. 

"There  are  infinite  possibilities  in  the 
doctrine,  I  can  see,"  said  Saxon.  "It  is 
certainly  the  largest  and  broadest  of  creeds 
and  appears  to  offer  a  key  to  innumerable 
problems." 

"Wait,"  said  Forrest,  and  dumping  the 
astonished  cat  on  the  grass,  who  stretched 
herself  and  yawned  reproachfully,  he  dart- 
ed into  his  castle. 

"  His  religion  reminds  me  "  said  Edith, 
"of  that  cannibal  sailor  of  the  Nancy  Bell, 
in  Gilberts'  poem,  that  'elderly  naval  man' 


The     Natural     Man  103 

who  sat  on  a  stone  and  sang  'in  a  singular 
minor  key:' 

'0  Fm  the  cook^  and  the  captain  bold, 
And  the  mate  of  the  Nancy  brig; 
And  the  bos'un  tight. 
And  the  midshipmite. 
And  the  crew  of  the  captain  s  gig.'  " 
They  all  laughed,  but  Miss  Earle  was 
inclined  to  look  a  little  indignant  at  the 
flippant  comparison. 

"  Don't  be  mad,  Theo,  I'm  not  quite 
so  shallow  as  I  seem,  and  I  really  think  I 
shall  always  feel  a  little  better  for  what 
Forrest  said  today." 

Forrest  came  back  with  a  paper  in  his 
hand. 

"  Here  is  a  poem  I  wrote  on  these 
ideas." 

"  One  moment,"  said  Saxon,  putting 
up  his  hand,  "  how  does  this  belief  of  yours 


I04  The     Natural     Man 

bear  on  future  life,  transmigration,  etc.? " 
"  I  am  not  very  clear,  there.  Perhaps 
the  spirit  retains  its  cohesion  for  a  time 
after  death  and  leads  an  unbodied  spirit 
life;  but  sooner  or  later,  I  suppose,  it 
breaks  up  and  disperses  or  goes  into  some 
other  form.  To  a  certain  extent  the  doc- 
trines of  the  spiritists  ^  transmigrationists 
may  both  be  true.  Matter  continually 
changes  its  form;  so,  I  think,  does  spirit. 
Matter  I  suppose  is  only  visible  spirit  and 
spirit  only  invisible  matter,  (^  each  merely 
a  form  or  expression  of  the  one,  divine 
force  which,  in  the  last  analysis,  is  the  only 
thing.  I  suppose  no  knowledge  to  be  lost. 
Every  form  I  think  keeps  a  perfect  record 
of  its  changes.  In  our  crude  way  we  read 
them  in  the  teeth  of  a  horse,  the  horns  of 
a  cow,  the  rings  of  a  tree,  the  strata  of  a 
world.  If  we  knew  enough  we  should  find 


The     Natural     Man 


105 


the  record  exact  and  unbroken —  nothing 
omitted.  When  at  last  after  every  minor 
change,  we  enlarge  into  conscious  Divine 
Identity  we  shall  know,  remember  and 
foreknow  everything  -  nothing  lost,  noth- 
ing imperfect,  nothing  to  regret,  nothing 
to  antagonize  —  only  infinite  serenity, 
strength,  health,  knowledge  and  peace." 

"  That  makes  Nirvana  look  very  dif- 
ferent from  annihilation." 

"Here  is  my  poem:" 

ID  ENTITT, 

O  little  cloudy  aloft  in  blue. 

Of  the  same  cloth  cut,  am  /,  as  you? 

And  do  /,  like  you,  some  day  fly 

Along  the  azure-tinted  sky? 

Am  I  the  blue,  the  mist,  the  rain. 

The  clod  that  drinks  it  on  the  -plain; 

The  little  flower  with  lifted  lips. 


io6  The     Natural     Man 

The  bee  that  out  its  nectar  sips? 

With  the  falling  star  am  I  undone? 
Do  I  burn  in  glory  in  the  sun? 
Is  there  but  One?  Are  all  things  mine? 
Am  I  a  worm?  Am  I  divine? 
Have  I  ever  lived;  do  I  ever  die 
And  yet  exist  eternally? 
Again,  again,  and  yet  again 
Transmutation,  loss  yet  gain. 

Sometimes  seeing,  sometimes  sleep, 

T'he  backward  wave,  the  forward  sweep, 

T'he  ebb,  the  sin,  the  diastole, 

'The  bloom,  the  genius,  the  thunder-roll; 

Contradiction  agreeing  sure. 

The  trap  self -caught  with  its  own  lure. 

The  circle  returning  whence  it  came. 

Ever  unbroken  the  spheric  frame, 

*  *  * 


The     Natural     Man 


107 


O  little  bird,  in  the  upward  tree. 
Surely  I  know  your  minstrelsy! 

0  lightning-pen  on  the  midnight  sky, 

1  read  at  last  your  word  on  high. 

"  Tell  me  the  secret  of  happiness?  " 
"  Feel  your    identity    and    agreement 

with  the  universe  and  appreciate  the  joy 

of  the  moment.'' 


CHAPTER     VI 


iE  led  them  now  toward  the 
lake,  walking  himself  in  the 
brook,  which  splashed  about 
his  bare  legs,  while  they  clam- 
bered along  the  banks.  Part  way  they 
came  to  a  clump  of  stately  trees,  from  a 
branch  of  one  depending  a  loop  of  wild- 
grape  vine  a  distance  of  50  or  60  feet. 

"This  is  one  of  my  play  grounds," 
said  Forrest,  "and  here  is  my  swing." 

Catching  the  loop  of  vine  he  ran  up 
the  slope  with  it,  and  then,  springing  up 
with  his  foot  in  the  loop,  he  shot  out  a 
hundred  feet  or  more  ^  back  again,  while 


no  The     Natural     Man 

the  great  limb  swayed  and  sprang  above. 
A  beautiful  scene,  full  of  wild,  child-like 
abandon. 

"What  a  magnificent  animal!"  whis- 
pered Saxon. 

"  More  than  that,"  murmured  Miss 
Earle,  "a  wise,  free  soul." 

"  He  certainly  holds  something  that 
we  lack." 

When  they  came  to  the  lake  he  could 
persuade  none  of  them  to  enter  his  little 
birch  canoe:  they  feared  an  upset,  so  he  led 
them  to  where  a  great,  sprawling  willow 
thrust  a  number  of  big  limbs  out  horizon- 
tally over  the  water. 

"This  tree  was  blown  down  once,  over 
the  lake,  and  then  some  of  the  branches 
became  upward  trunks." 

They  seated  themselves  on  this  roman- 
tic natural  pier,  sitting  on  trunks,  leaning 


The     Natural     Man  hi 

against  limbs;  Forrest  sitting  on  one  close 
to  the  water,  letting  his  feet  plash. 

The  water  was  deep,  yet  clear,  ^  they 
could  see  sunfish,  bass,  pickerel,  and 
sometimes  a  turtle  below.  As  Edith  leaned 
over  to  look  at  them  she  suddenly  cried  out: 

"O  there  goes  my  ring!" 

Forrest  marked  the  spot  from  which 
the  ripples  dilated,  and  then,  without  a  word, 
tossing  his  wampum  belt  ^  pouch  ashore, 
he  dropped  forward  from  his  perch  like  a 
great  turtle  and  slid  down  through  the 
clear  water  in  pursuit  of  the  jewel. 

He  looked  like  an  immense  frog,  down 
there,  paddling  about.  Almost  immediately 
he  rose  with  the  circlet  in  his  grasp,  present- 
ing it  to  Edith  who  thanked  him  profusely, 
and  then  rested  himself  unconcernedly  on 
a  sunny  branch  with  his  feet  in  the  water 
again.  Wearing  only  what  swimmers  call  a 


112  The     Natural     Man 

"  trunk/'  anyway,  he  was  quite  amphibious. 

"  I  will  show  you  some  fun,"  he  said, 
and  putting  his  hand  to  his  mouth  he 
"yodeled"  like  a  Switzer. 

Instantly  loud  barks  rang  thro*  the 
Vale,  and  in  a  moment  the  mastiffs,  the 
beagles,  the  collies,  came  rushing  toward 
them. 

"Here  come  the  henchmen!"  said 
Sax. 

"  Into  the  water,  children ! "  cried  For- 
rest, clapping  his  hands. 

No  second  invitation,  that  warm  day, 
was  needed.  With  joyous  clamour  the  dogs 
dashed  pell-mell  into  the  cool  fluid; 
splashing  it  high,  swimming,  chasing  each 
other,  lapping  with  greedy  tongues;  while 
the  spectators  applauded. 

Forrest  could  not  resist  the  contagion, 
but  leapt  from  his  branch  and  joined  with 


The     Natural     Man 


113 


them,  sometimes  in  the  canoe,  sometimes 
swimming,  sometimes  playing  "tag"  on 
the  bank. 

They  were  wild  with  delight  to  have 
him  with  them,  and  tore  around,  barking 
frantically,  their  eyes  shining  with  joy. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  and  waved  his 
hand. 

"Watch,  Ward,  home  again!" 

Very  promptly,  but  with  wistful  back- 
ward glances  they  departed. 

"To  your  work  again,  boys!"  he  said 
to  the  collies,  ^  they,  too,  with  suddenly 
sobered  countenances,  returned  to  their 
duties. 

"  How  did  you  get  your  bark  canoe  ? " 
said  Miss  Earle. 

"  I  bought  it  of  an  Indian  in  the 
Adirondacs,  and  a  great  time  I  had  getting 
it  here.    I  paddled  it  whenever  I  could, 


114  The     Natural     Man 

lifted  it  on  my  head  over  "carrys,"  and 
the  rest  of  the  way  Blackbird  dragged  it 
on  a  "  travois."  She  was  disgusted  with  the 
job,  and  had  a  great  notion  to  kick  it  into 
smithereens,  but  thought  better  of  it  on 
my  account. 

"Woman-like,"  said  Saxon. 

"Ah,  yes.  Blackbird  is  a  very  lady.*' 

He  was  lying  now  in  the  sun,  on  a  flat 
rock,  near  the  water,  drying  himself,  and 
looked  very  Greek-like  with  the  damp 
locks  slightly  curling  on  his  brow  and  his 
naked  limbs  glistening  in  the  bright  light; 
all  reflected  in  the  water. 

"Tell  us  about  your  trips  to  the 
Adirondacs." 

"  O  do  you  care  to  know !  Well,  quite 
often  in  the  summer,  when  the  hay  mak- 
ing is  over,  ( I  love  that  ^  never  miss  it) 
I  leave  my  place  to  the  care  of  the  people 


The     Natural     Man  115 

of  the  Red  Farm,  take  my  rifle,  my  bow 
and  arrows,  my  flute,  my  mastifi-s  and 
beagles,  a  buffalo  robe  i^  two  blankets,  and 
hie  away  to  the  mountains.  The  journey 
to  and  fro  is  pleasant,  for  the  people  on 
the  way  all  know  me  and  call  me  the 
"White  Indian."  I  am  a  circus  to  the 
farmers,  and  they  are  glad  to  have  me  stop 
a  night.  They  feed  Blackbird  royally,  and 
the  dogs,  to  see  them  perform,  and  my 
bow-shooting,  lasso-throwing,  and  flute 
playing,  always  make  me  a  free-comrade. 
In  the  mountains  I  camp  till  cold  weather, 
and  then  come  home  laden  with  pelts 
and  happy  memories  of  the  great  woods. 
I  have  friends  all  through  there  — 
guides,  Indians,  half-breeds,  campers;  but 
I  am  alone,  preferably.  A  man  in  the 
presence  of  Nature  should  be  on  his  best 
behavior,  but  these  people  feel  nothing,  see 


ii6  The     Natural     Man 

nothing  and  chatter  nonsense,  mostly." 
"  Read    us    another    poem/'     coaxed 

Edith,  "something  about  the  woods." 
He  went  gravely    to  his  pouch,  and 

pulling  out  a  MS.  read  them  this: 

SWAMF    HAPPINESS, 
I 

Were  I  a  betrachian  cool. 

Sitting  beside  some  pool. 

In  an  alder-stump  cave  in  the  bank; 

With  a  fern  before 

And  moss  on  the  floor ^ 

And  my  walls  dew-droppy  and  dank;      ^ 

A  bulrush  bed^ 

A  toad  stool^ 

Fishes  to  see 

For  company; 

And  a  turtle  agog 

On  a  log 


The     Natural     Man  117 

JVitb  a  Chinaman  s  neck  to  his  head; 

A  newt  on  the  stair ^ 

In  a  lily-pad  chair; 

And  a  drift-wood  boaty 

On  which  I  could  floaty 

With  a  devil-fly  -perched  at  the  helm\ 

Water  to  whehn\ 

And  a  very  deep  voice  in  my  throat — 

Tell  me, 

Would  not  that  be  happiness^ 

II 
Were  I  a  sinuous  snake 
Under  a  bush  in  a  brake; 
With  a  pitch-forky  tongue. 
Bifurcate, 
And  elate; 

With  a  toad  in  my  maw 
Still  wriggling  and  raw; 
A  red  flower  by  my  side; 
A  spider  net  overswung. 


ii8  The     Natural     Man 

Jeweled  with  dew; 

Shady  water  before 

Wherein  I  could  glide; 

Arrow-leaves  by  the  shore; 

Hot  sun  overhead; 

A  little  green  heron —  Pee-quawk! 

Black  birds  to  whistle  and  talk^ 

And  one  with  a  shoulder  of  red 

Perched  in  a  white-birch  tree^ 

Listening  a  Pewee-bird  sing 

Of  a  yellow-jack  bee  and  his  sting: — 

Sting  me—e—el  Sting  me—e—el — 

Would  not  that  be  happiness? 

in 

Were  I  a  sun  perch  in  the  pond. 
Armored  in  rainbow  and  red; 
Eyes  rolling  hither  and  yon; 
Droop-cornered  mouth  to  my  head; 
A  telescope  yawn; 
Daggers  all  over  my  back. 


The     Natural     Man  119 

Bristling  when  I  would  attack 
Cannibals  after  my  spawn\ 
Driving  them  out  and  beyond 
My  clean-swept^  gravelly  nest 
In  the  sand; 

[Shoal  water  next  to  the  land. 
Clear  amber  water  and  warm.) 
Gold-Jin  fanning  at  rest. 
Under  the  Nymphea  shade; 
Or  charging  with  passionate  spite. 
Jealous  of  raid; 
Dreaming  of  babies  a-swarm 
Before  me  in  fluent  crowd. 
Darting,  fine-shredded  cloud  — 
If  I  were  that  Amazon  Knight 
Would  not  that  be  happiness? 

IV 
Were  I  a  musquash  in  the  swamp. 
Loving  a  swim  and  a  romp 
Beneath  the  moon; 


I20  The     Natural     Man 

When  the  waters  are  bright  and  stilly 

And  the  hare^  dead  tree  on  the  hill 

Gleams  white\ 

And  the  bark  of  the  coon. 

Or  the  laugh  of  the  loon 

Wakes  the  night; 

The  owl  neighs  "  Ah-y-y-hey-hey-hoo!  ** 

And  the  night  hawk  booms  "  Bhoo-oo!  " 

And  the  little  mouse  cowers  in  fright y 

With  a  wigwam  of  mud , 

Rising  out  of  the  flood; 

Bedded  warm  and  soft 

In  the  dome-shaped  loft; 

With  bank-caves,  beside. 

To  dive  to  and  hide; 

Under  cover  so  nice 

When  winter  brings  ice  — 

What  think  you. 

Would  not  that  be  happiness? 


The     Natural     Man  121 

V 

Or  were  I  the  man  by  that  swamp. 

On  the  hill  above,  in  the  camp. 

Noting  the  play  go  on: — 

The  iris-fish  and  her  spawn; 

The  frog  in  his  swimming  school; 

The  snake  asleep  in  the  sun; 

'The  black-bird's  gurgle  of  fun; 

'The  turtle's  drop  from  the  stump, 

Sss— plump! 

In  the  pool; 

'The  muskraf  s  dive; 

The  paper  hive 

Of  the  bees; 

And  at  night 

The  camp  fire' s  light 

On  the  trees; 

The  sounds  that  wake 

The  forest  still. 

Whistle  and  cluck  of  whippoorwill. 


121  The     Natural     Man 

^be  screech  owV s  quavering  shake ^ 
Faint  heard  plash  from  the  lake  — 
Ahl  —  that  indeed  would  he  happiness! 

"Come  and  see  the  Swallow's  Nest 
before  the  afternoon  is  too  far  spent." 

They  went  back  thro'  the  trees  and  up 
by  Cave  Gables  again.  Back  of  it  a  goat  path 
went  up  the  precipitous  hill-side.  Forrest 
aided  Miss  Earle,  and  it  gave  her  artistic 
nature  a  strange  thrill  to  be  so  close  to  this 
nude,  supple  savage  ^  feel  his  firm  grasp 
on  her  arm. 

She  felt  a  desire  she  did  not  indulge  to 
put  out  her  hand  on  his  back  and  feel  the 
sinewy  play  of  his  shoulders. 

Swallow's  Nest  was  just  at  the  hilltop. 
One  jutting  rock  formed  the  floor,  and 
another,  some  eight  feet  over,  a  sort  of 
pent-house  roof.  On  three  sides  open  to  the 


The     Natural     Man  123 

view;  at  the  back,  rock.  Rocks  piled  up 
formed  a  rude  battlement  about  the  edge, 
and  a  bitter-sweet  £ff  a  wild  clematis  fringed 
along  the  eaves.  Under  the  roof  a  number 
of  eave-swallows  had  nests,  flying  in  and 
out  twittering.  There  were  a  little  table,  a 
bench,  ^  a  hammock  from  which  whoever 
swung  could  see  the  whole  view. 

The  outlook  was  superb,  over  hills, 
dales  and  plain. 

"O  what  a  lovely  balcony!"  cried 
Edith,  "  and  what  a  view !  I  could  stay 
here  forever." 

"Is  it  here  you  write  your  poems?" 
asked  Miss  Earle. 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  little  of  his 
former  shyness,  and  yet  seemed  pleased. 

"Yes,  I  write  a  good  many  here  in 
summer  time.  I  read  and  study  here,  too. 
1  like  to  be  here  in  a  thunder  storm  and 


124  The     Natural     Man 

watch  it  pass  over  the  country,  and  the  big 
drops  fringe  down  along  the  rock-eaves." 

"These  little  swallows  do  not  fear  you?" 

"O  no.  We  are  old  comrades.  They 
are  shy  now,  for  you  are  here,  but  often 
perch  on  me,  or  the  table,  when  I  am  alone, 
and  share  a  lunch  with  me." 

Edith  had  climbed  into  the  hammock, 
and  he  gently  swung  it  as  he  stood,  while 
the  others  sat  by  the  table.  They  were  all 
happy  and  at  ease. 

Miss  Earle  leaned  forward,  with  her 
elbows  on  the  table,  ^  fixed  her  dark  eyes 
on  Forrest. 

"  Would  you  advise  all  people  to  drop 
their  present  habits  and  live  as  you  do, 
Mr.  Westwood?" 

"O  no;  the  garment  should  fit  the  form. 
What  I  would  advise  is  that  every  man 
should  live  his  own  life,  questioning  him- 


The     Natural     Man  125 

self  closely,  however,  whether  greater  sim- 
plicity would  not  bring  more  happiness. 
Be  yourself,  be  free,  is  my  advice,  and  I 
believe  simplicity  promises  more  than 
luxury." 

"Then  you  do  not  condemn  luxury?" 
"  Not  at  all,  if  it  is  cheap  enough." 
"  Could  you  reform  society  on   your 
ideal,  what  would  it  be  like?" 

He  showed  his  teeth  in  a  smile  and 
then  looked  thoughtfully  out  over  the 
landscape. 

"A  Federation  of  the  Free." 
"O  Mr.  Westwood,"  burst  out  Edith, 
"don't  talk  like  that.  Tell  us  in  detail  just 
what  it  would  be  like." 

He  laughed  now,  and  patted  her  head 
as  one  might  an  impulsive  child. 

"  I  have  no  very  clear  idea.  I  have 
been  living  my  own  life,  not  planning  for 


126  The     Natural     Man 

others.  Still  I  have  dreamed  sometimes 
that  the  world  was  changed,  that  laws, 
governments,  institutions  were  about 
worked  out,  and  all  nations  one.  In  my 
dream  the  people  seemed  to  be  gathered 
together  over  the  world  in  hamlets  and 
village-groups,  drawn  more  by  similarity 
of  taste  and  feeling  than  by  necessity.  Not 
exactly  or  totally  communistic,  but  co-oper- 
ating in  so  many  ways  as  in  some  things  to 
approach  that.  The  land  possessed  only  by 
those  who  used  it  and  while  using  it. 

"In  my  dream  everybody  took  a  share 
in  the  necessary  work,  ^  thus  a  few  hours 
apiece  was  enough  each  day,  and  all  were 
employed  and  all  compensated.  The  rest 
of  the  time,  everybody  took  pleasure, 
read,  studied,  did  artistic  work,  what 
they  pleased.  And  these  artistic  products, 
being  fruits    of  love,  were  not   sold  but 


The     Natural     Man  127 

given  to  friends,  or  freely  to  the  public. 
The  artist  working  in  his  moments  of 
leisure  to  express  his  sense  of  beauty, 
asking  no  reward  but  his  own  satisfaction 
and  the  praise  of  sympathetic  observers. 
And  I  seemed  to  see  all  habits,  customs, 
behavior,  much  freer  and  simpler  than 
now.  No  social  law  except  that  of  non- 
interference; no  fashions,  no  restraints,  no 
inquisitions  in  morals  or  religion,  individ- 
ual tastes  followed  everywhere,  and  every 
human  flower  after  its  own  kind." 

Edith  clapped  her  hands,  bvit  Miss 
Earle  kept  her  dark  eyes  gravely  on  his 
face.  She  was  deeply  interested,  and  seemed 
like  a  person  absorbed  in  the  approaching 
discovery  of  some  long  sought  solution. 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Westwood.  I  be- 
lieve there  is  more  in  that  dream  of  yours 
than  you  are  aware  of/' 


128  The     Natural     Man 

He  gave  her  a  swift,  strong  glance  and 
each  seemed  to  look  into  the  other's  heart. 

They  went  down,  after  a  while,  and 
had  a  little  supper  on  the  terrace;  and  then 
they  talked  of  books  and  nature  and  sang 
songs  &'  listened  to  his  flute  till  dark  came 
and  the  moon  rose. 

He  brought  their  horses,  then,  and 
walked  with  them  to  the  confines  of  his 
little  domain.  The  black  cat  ran  with  him 
and  the  great  owl  swooped  down  from 
somewhere  and  perched  on  his  head.  And 
as  the  bird  swayed  on  its  unsteady  perch 
turning  its  pivoted  head  to  stare  at  them 
at  whiles,  and  flapping  its  great  wings,  they 
thought  of  Odin. 

And  the  moonlight  drifted  whitely 
down  through  the  trees  on  all. 

After  they  had  left  him,  &  could  only 
hear  his  flute  ringing  sweetly  through  the 


The     Natural     Man  129 

silent  woods,  Miss  Earle,  riding  between 
her  two  companions,  said: 

"  Do  you  know,  that  man  has  taught 
me  the  greatest  truth  of  my  life?  I  have 
been  profoundly  dissatisfied  with  my  own 
life  and  that  of  the  world,  as  you  know. 
Now  I  am  coming  up  here  on  this  moun- 
tain side,  shall  purchase  land  next  this 
philosopher,  and,  gradually  gathering 
around  me  like-minded  spirits,  we  will 
form  a  nucleus  of  that  freer  society  of 
which  he  has  dreamed.  What  do  you  say, 
dear  friends,  will  you  help  me.?" 

"We  will." 

And  in  the  distance,  sweet  ^  far,  rang 
the  flute. 


CHAP  T  E  R    FT  I 


T  was  morning  again  in  Vale 
Sunrise,  the  dew  on  the  flowers 
and  leaves,  the  level  light 
streaming  through  the  trees. 
A  beautiful  tall  girl  walked  in  the  path 
near  Cave  Gables.  Her  gown  was  of  the 
simplest,  and  short  enough  to  show  her 
beautifully  turned  bare  feet  and  ankles. 
From  her  uncovered  head  her  fair  hair  fell  in 
two  thick  braids  far  below  her  waist.  Her 
great  gray  eyes  were  pensive  and  dreamy. 
She  sat  down  on  a  log  and  seemed  lost 
in  thought.  Suddenly  there  was  a  glad  bark, 
a  beagle  fawned  upon  her,  and  she  looked 


132  The     Natural     Man 

up  to  see  Forrest  close  at  hand,  with  the 
milk  crock  balanced  on  his  head. 

"  O  Forrest ! "  she  said,  a  glad  light 
breaking  thro'  her  clear,  brown  complexion 
and  making  her  somewhat  irregular  fea- 
tures beautiful. 

He  set  down  the  crock  ^  putting  his 
arms  around  her,  kissed  her  tenderly. 

"What  brings  you  here,  my  sweet 
Light  of  the  Morning?  " 

She  smiled  happily  at  his  loving  words 
and  patted  his  brawny  arm,  in  a  sort  of 
proud  timidity,  with  her  shapely  hand. 

"  They  were  so  busy  at  the  Red  Farm, 
this  morning,  they  could  spare  nobody  to 
come  for  the  milk.  I  said  I  would  come, 
but  mother  grumbled  and  said  I  saw  too 
much  of  you  now.  Father  winked  at  me, 
behind  her  back,  ^  said  he  wished  I  would 
go,  as  it  would  be  a  great  favor  to  him." 


The     Natural     Man 


^33 


"Your  mother  does  not  like  me,  alto- 
gether? " 

"No.  It  was  all  right  till  I  took  to 
wearing  simple  frocks,  going  barefoot, 
wearing  my  hair  down  in  braids,  and  read- 
ing Emerson  instead  of  the  fashion  paper. 
Then  it  was  'O  Mabel,  why  don't  you  be 
more  ladylike  ! '  from  morning  till  night. 
But  after  all  I  have  my  will,  ^  father  says 
he  likes  me  better  this  way." 

Forrest  laughed.  "  Lucky  for  you  that 
you  are  a  spoiled  child  !  " 

He  blew  his  long  whistle,  there  was  a 
neigh,  and  soon  came  Blackbird,  galloping. 
She  ran  sniffing  to  Mabel,  who  gave  her  a 
ginger  cake  from  her  pocket.  Forrest  pick- 
ed the  girl  up  in  his  strong  arms  and 
lifted  her  like  a  bundle  to  the  mare's  back. 

"  O  but  I  came  to  carry  the  milk,"  she 
protested. 


134 


The     Natural     Man 


"You  do  look  like  a  picture  with  the 
crock  on  your  head,"  he  replied,  "but  this 
morning  you  shall  ride  and  I  will  carry," 
and  he  lifted  the  crock  again  and  walked 
beside  her. 

"  O  Forrest  you  are  so  good  ^  hand- 
some, and  I  am  so  happy!" 

And  a  thrush  near  them  sang  till  the 
woods  trembled  with  the  music,  and  the 
waters  of  the  brook  tinkled  over  the  stones. 


CHAP  T  E  R    Fill 


O  M  E  years  are  dead,  and  it 
is  Vale  Sunrise  again.  The 
northern  end  of  the  Vale, 
where  Cave  Gables  is,  remains 
unchanged,  but  south  of  the  lake,  and  be- 
yond, is  a  strange  sylvan  village.  In  this 
hamlet  live  our  old  friends,  Theodora 
Earle,  Edith  Lyle,  "Mabel  of  the  Morning 
Light,"  as  Forrest  calls  her,  Saxon  Ward, 
and  many  we  have  never  known.  Each  has 
his  or  her  own  little  home,  for  a  separate 
habitation  for  each  individual  is  one  of  the 
tenets  of  this  ideal  community.  They  call 
themselves  Simplicists,  and  the  home  of 


136  The     Natural     Man 

each  is  supposed  to  represent  that  person's 
character  and  be  sacred  to  his  whims  and 
ideals.  Mabel's  father  has  joined  the  com- 
munity, &  his  farm  is  now  divided  among 
as  many  of  the  community  as  wish  farm 
work.  The  artistic  blacksmith,  who  made 
the  fire-devils  for  Forrest's  ingle,  has  his 
smithy  on  the  edge  of  the  village.  Saxon 
keeps  his  printing  office  in  Rippleford, 
but  lives  in  Vale  Sunrise,  and  edits  a  paper 
for  the  community.  As  much  as  possible 
the  people  employ  each  other,  and  so  have 
a  self-supporting  community.  Some  of  the 
members  are  artists,  one  is  a  sculptor, 
several  are  journalists  or  authors.  A  noted 
singer  and  two  noted  musicians  call  this 
"home."  These  artistic  and  literary  folk 
sell  their  products  and  talents  to  the  out- 
side world,  but  among  themselves  these 
things  are  favors  &  not  a  matter  of  dollars. 


The     Natural     Man  137 

The  community  has  a  carpenter,  a  mason, 
a  tailor,  a  dress-maker,  a  baker,  a  cook 
who  cooks  for  all,  a  laundry  that  washes 
for  all,  some  housekeepers  who  go  around 
and  do  the  housework  for  all.  There 
is  a  public  library,  reading  rooms,  a 
museum,  an  art  gallery,  a  social  parlor,  a 
hall  for  meetings,  lectures,  dramas,  etc. 
All  dress  as  they  like,  live  as  they  like,  do 
as  they  like.  Everything  is  free  but  the 
repression  of  freedom.  There  are  no  codes, 
no  laws,  no  rigid  customs,  no  officers.  In 
a  mental  sense  Forrest  may  be  regarded 
as  their  leader,  and  Miss  Earle  in  a  busi- 
ness sense,  but  nobody  is  bound  to  stay, 
acquiesce  or  obey,  but  by  his  own  sense  of 
benefit.  They  co-operate  in  buying  and 
selling,  (ff  in  caring  for  the  sick  and  help- 
less, and  in  insuring  each  other's  property. 
Very  happy  these  people  seem  to  be, 


138  The     Natural     Man 

secure  in  each  others  comradeship  and 
sympathy,  free  to  think,  speak,  act  as  they 
will ;  working  short  hours,  and  spending 
the  rest  of  their  time  in  pursuit  of  beauty, 
wisdom  and  innocent  joy.  Wealth  is  des- 
pised, and  those  contented  with  the  least 
regarded  with  envy.  Thoreau*s  Walden  is 
a  text  book,  Chloe  and  Daphnis  models, 
life  an  acted  pastoral. 

In  their  homes  &  dress  the  individual 
peculiarities  come  out  with  most  pictur- 
esque emphasis.  Mabel  lives  in  a  little 
English  cottage  of  rough  stone,  with  lat- 
ticed windows  &  thatched  roof,  and  dresses 
like  a  shepherdess.  Miss  Earle  affects  Greek 
draperies,  &  resides  in  a  grotto-like  studio 
with  a  glass  roof  from  which  all  the  light 
comes.  There  is  an  immense  aquarium  in 
the  centre  of  the  room,  and  an  immense 
Wardian  case  in  the  wall;  the  other  walls 


The     Natural     Man  139 

are  frescoed  in  sylvan  scenes  or  hung  with 
pictures;  moss -colored  carpets  cover  the 
floor;  statues  stand  around.  Edith  Lyle 
lives  in  a  tiny  Swiss  chalet  and  dresses  in 
bloomers.  Saxon  has  an  American  log 
cabin.  The  blacksmith  lives  in  a  house  of 
iron,  full  of  artistic  iron  work  of  his  own 
design  and  making,  and  dresses  like  a  fif- 
teenth century  artisan.  A  naturalist  finds 
simplicity  in  dwelling  in  a  tent  all  the  year 
around,  and  dressing  in  green  in  summer, 
white  in  winter.  An  author  declares  the 
Japanese  the  ideal  Simplicists,  and  builds 
his  home  on  their  Hnes.  Another  author 
declares  simplicity  is  to  be  found  in  avoid- 
ing all  unnecessary  work  ^  in  the  utmost 
frugality.  He  lives  in  a  one-roomed  box 
house  of  boards,  painted  all  plain  red  in- 
side and  out,  one  window,  no  chimney,  a 
kerosene  stove,  no  carpet,  a  bed  of  blank- 


140  The     Natural     Man 

ets  on  the  floor,  hung  up  by  day.  He  lives 
on  uncooked  fruits  and  nuts  only.  His 
furniture  consists  of  a  few  pine  boxes  of 
different  sizes,  holding  his  effects.  He  sits 
on  one,  eats  from  the  top  of  another. 
Three  baskets,  a  pitcher  and  glass,  a  nut- 
cracker, nut-pick  and  knife  furnish  his 
table.  Beyond  that  only  a  desk,  book 
shelves  and  books.  He  dresses  in  canvas 
and  lives  mostly  in  the  out-of-doors.  An- 
other lives  in  a  tower,  on  a  hill,  with  a 
glass  room  at  top. 

It  is  an  odd  world,  but  a  happy  one. 

Is  it  a  freak,  or  a  sign  of  the  future  ? 


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